


waste time with a masterpiece

by lacecat



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Flirting, Coffee Shops, Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi, Museums, Parades, Polyamory, Sexual Content, Snapshots, all your faves are bisexual, i've sacrificed artistic integrity just for them to all be happy ok, more bad flirting, starts with setting up silverflint and everything just kind of goes from there, will probably remain unfinished as i find more and more rom-com situations to put them all in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-09-30 05:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10155035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacecat/pseuds/lacecat
Summary: “Wait- you two are dating?” Flint says.“Miranda and I, or Silver and I?” Madi asks. “Because yes, to both.”Flint looks momentarily stunned, so Silver takes the opportunity to hiss, “I thought you told him you were my girlfriend!” at Madi.“I thought you would have brought it up by now! I only saw him the once, anyways,” Madi bites back. “How did you not bring it up?”Miranda looks between the two of them. “James, I believe I’m dating Mr. Silver’s girlfriend.”“Yes,” Flint says. “Yes, I think you are.”(the adventures of the happy modern!AU ot5)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *looks around at the beautiful works of art that everyone in this fandom writes*  
> *slowly pushes forward this barely-plotted pile of garbage fluff*
> 
> I started writing this to deal with season 4, and somehow it got totally o u t o f c o n t r o l lol 
> 
> (title from DNCE)

Flint prides himself in his ability to work well under pressure. When he was in the Navy, he was known for being efficient, a keen strategist, and absolutely never getting flustered.

 

Which is why when one John Silver flirts outrageously with Flint at his coffee shop, against all odds Flint somehow manages to utterly _mangle_ a cup of coffee, and it absolutely destroys his day.

 

••• 

 

Flint had retired, officially, for health reasons. He had a harmless heart murmur that really was incredibly unlikely to give him trouble, but it was the official reason that his Navy superiors put on the paperwork. 

 

The real reason was that he had knocked out the teeth of a high-ranking ambassador at a gala event. He was lucky that he wasn’t thrown in jail, Admiral Hennessy had hissed to him, before telling him that he was to be discharged. Hennessy, who had always been like a father to him, had managed to make it a medical discharge rather than Flint being unceremoniously booted and stripped of his title. 

 

He didn’t regret his actions for one moment, however, much to Hennessy's exasperation. The ambassador had insulted the woman he loved with an especially crude remark, and given his reputation for being salacious towards the women in his employment, Flint had barely hesitated before slugging him in the jaw, right in front of most of the admiralty. 

 

Miranda had been furious with him when he had shown up on her doorstep, newly discharged from the service. She had said that he was giving up his life for something as ridiculous as defending her honor. 

 

But Flint had realized that day that his home wasn’t on a ship traveling around the world. It was in a neat downtown brownstone filled with books and love, and he thinks that Miranda had realized it soon after as well. 

 

The first day of his retirement, Flint was walking down the street and stumbled upon a shop for sale. It had used to been a semi-successful coffee shop before hard times had shut it down, but had much of the machinery still in place. Flint had eyeballed the space quickly, made a decision, and had been the owner of a coffee shop within forty-eight hours with his last Navy paycheck. 

 

He had fond memories of drinking coffee with his grandfather when he was a boy, when they would go out to the lakes and spend the entire day fishing. Flint thought of chilly mornings when the air had curled thick and low on the water, matching the steam rising up from the thermos tucked between them and the white mugs they clutched in their hands, silent as they waited for fish to surface. 

 

He figured what what he lacked in experience, he made up in sheer determination that had done him well so far. Flint named the store after his grandfather’s boat, and within weeks, he had opened the store up to the public, hiring Eleanor and Billy to help him run the place. 

 

Flint thought the business was a good idea until one fateful afternoon when one John Silver walked in through the door.

  

•••

  

“Hello, handsome,” a voice says, and Flint heaves an sigh before turning to address the customer. He’s hoping it’s not the strange old man who came in earlier, who stared at Flint with beady eyes just a little too long for his comfort. 

 

But then Flint recognizes the man as soon as he turns. He’s a semi-regular customer, not that Flint’s never talked to him before, usually kept busy in the back during the mid-afternoon rush. Usually Eleanor or Billy are the ones who run the counter, but since Billy had to leave early today, he’s working alongside Eleanor until closing time. 

 

The man has dark hair curling down to his shoulders, and he’s leaning against the counter in a way that puts attention on his biceps, where curls of dark ink disappear under a tight shirt. He catches Flint’s eye with a growing grin, and Flint forces himself to look away from the man’s arms, berating himself for the brief lapse in professionalism. He doesn’t say anything, keeps his face flat even when the man continues, “What’s good for someone who’s looking for something sweet?”  


 

“We have a menu right there,” Flint says, as Eleanor hides a snort and busies herself with wiping down the counter opposite of them. 

 

The man doesn’t back down, though, instead fixing him with a wide smile. There’s no one behind him in line, though, so he actually takes the time to tilt his head, looking at Flint with that smile. “No recommendations? Something that you have been dying to try to make for me?”  


 

“It’s coffee,” Flint says flatly. “Not rocket science.”

 

He can see Eleanor out of the corner of his eye look at him like he’s insane- it’s Flint, after all, who is all about maintaining a professional attitude with the customers that frequent his shop- but Flint ignores her. He’s had a headache since the morning, and he’s not going to indulge in this ridiculous man, preening like he’s some sort of peacock, despite the fact that he is handsome. _God damn it._

 

The man continues to talk while Flint prepares his order, a simple hazelnut latte. Flint tries to tune him out like he usually does with irritating customers, but something about the man’s low voice just cuts into his thoughts, his words silky like he’s well used to talking to anyone about anything. 

 

“Oh, I think I’d like to try some of that- ah, vanilla syrup, after all, if that isn’t too much trouble,” the man says suddenly when Flint is about to put the lid on the cup. “How much is it for two pumps?” 

 

Flint is about to tell him to take his coffee and leave, but then Eleanor slides over. “It’s on us, Mr. Silver. James can do that,” she says with the smallest of smiles, her lips twitching as the man looks between her and Flint for a moment, almost surprised like he didn’t see Eleanor there. “Flint, I’m going to the back to check on the muffins.”

 

While Flint sends her a murderous look, the man- Silver- looks back at Flint. “Only if you ‘re going to pump it for me _,”_ he says in a suggestive tone. Flint blames the sudden flush on the back of his neck on the steam. 

 

Flint grits his teeth and adds the syrup. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, I mean,” Silver says. “Did you just start working here?” 

 

“Here you go,” Flint says suddenly, turning to hand him the cup. 

 

“Can I also get extra foam on that?” Silver says with another flash of that smile, and he has to take a deep breath before stepping away to turn on the milk. “Yes, that’s marvelous,” Silver adds as if as an afterthought, and Flint glances over at him. 

 

He regrets it, as Silver’s eyes slide up from where he had been definitely checking Flint out, and meets Flint’s eye with a slightly leer that would be disturbing if only Flint didn’t catch the way his tongue caught just slightly on his pink lower lip, making something burn in his chest. 

 

Flint burns his hand on the machine, spilling out half the coffee onto the counter. He thrusts the cup at Silver finally, his ears now a shade of red. The man looks delighted at that, his hand brushing the back of Flint’s when he takes the cup. 

 

The man actually takes a sip of it right then and there, closing his eyes for a moment as he inhales the coffee. Flint can only helplessly stare at the way his throat is working, the sound he makes when he drinks. 

 

“Have a nice day,” Flint grits out, and immediately picks up a towel to mop up the spill. 

 

“Oh, I will,” Silver says smoothly, but before he turns to go, he says, “Although I do think you put caramel syrup in this, _James_.” 

 

Flint glances up at the row of bottles before him- damn it. He’s right. He snaps his head to look at the man, but he’s already leaving, looking smug in the tilt of his shoulders and the way he walks with a swing to his step. 

 

Eleanor comes back to the front not a minute later. “I’ve never seen him hit on Billy or me like that, I’ll have to say.”

 

“The expresso machine needs to be descaled,” Flint mutters, even as both he and Eleanor know that the machine was simply no match to the human error of a man agitated by startlingly blue eyes and a sly grin. _God damn it_. “It’s ruining the roast.” 

 

“Sure it does,” Eleanor says in a dry tone. “He’s not so bad looking, and he’s definitely into you.” 

 

“No,” Flint snaps, considering the logistics of drowning himself in frothed milk. He’s a grown man, not some blushing school boy who gets distracted by rather terrible flirting. 

 

Eleanor glances at the counter. “Oh damn, he’s left an excellent tip, too. Try not to scare him off.”

 

•••

 

 “I finally talked to that gorgeous man and he already hates me,” Silver proclaims as he walks into the apartment, closing the door behind him. 

 

Madi, who was combing her hair, meets his eyes in the mirror. “Who?” 

 

“He was at the coffee shop,” Silver elaborates, and Madi turns to fix him with a look. “The redhead?”

 

“You’re talking about Mr. Flint?” Madi asks then, turning from where she’s perched at the foot of their bed. “Short beard, wears button downs even on the hottest of days? Eleanor’s mentioned him.” 

 

“That’s him,” Silver agrees, slumping on their bed to remove his prosthetic leg. “I’ve only gotten glimpses of him before, but- he’s got these stunning eyes, even when he’s glaring at me, and those thighs- God, I would die happy between those thighs.” 

 

Madi sets down her comb, the turns so she can push Silver down and straddle his waist. “His thighs, you’ll die happy between?” she repeats with fake indignation, unable to hide her smile when Silver’s hands snake up her thighs to grasp her waist. She was in the middle of getting changed when he walked in, and his hands are warm on her bare flesh. 

 

“Darling, you know I would happily live out my days between your legs if you’d let me,” Silver says, bringing her down for a long, lazy kiss.

 

Madi lets her hands tangle in his hair, enjoying the faint taste of coffee in his mouth with a hum, before pulling away. “Be nice to him.You do have a tendency to irritate at first impression, especially with the monstrosity you called flirting.”

 

Silver tries to give her an innocent expression. “It won you over, didn’t you?” 

 

Madi grimaces in response. He adds, “And I’m always on my best behavior,” 

 

“I should hope not,” she says, moving her hips in a way that makes Silver’s mouth go dry. He pulls her down so that he can flip them, pressing a kiss to the base of her neck as she laughs, her hands still in his hair. He pushes the prosthetic leg off the bed to press her arms down beside her head, twining their fingers together. 

 

“Maybe just for you,” he allows, smirking into the warm dark skin between her breasts, kissing down her body until she starts to moan instead of laugh. 

 

•••

 

The man comes back the very next day. Flint makes Billy take orders at the counter, but he doesn’t miss the way Silver’s eyes follow him to the back of the coffee shop. To his horror, Billy looks to where Silver is staring, and he whispers something to the man that makes him laugh, his eyes not leaving Flint for several long moments. 

 

He leaves, and Flint notices that his swinging step is less due to his attitude, and more that he’s missing part of his leg. The metal reflects the sunlight as Silver walks away, and Flint thinks to himself that it’s apt that the man seems to catch the light where ever he goes, and then decides he needs to check the accounting in the back to avoid such ridiculous thoughts. 

 

But then Silver also returns the next day, and then the next, every day for the next week. One of those days, Flint is stuck at the register again when he sees the man come in through the doors. 

 

This time, he’s wearing a tank top, and Flint has to physically maneuver his head so he doesn’t stare at the tattoo- a ship, perhaps? his brain wonders before he squashes that thought- that curves across the muscle of his shoulder and upper chest. 

 

“I quite liked the caramel you gave me that time,” Silver says, and the bastard doesn’t even flinch when Flint glares at him. “What about-” and he proceeds to give Flint possibly the most complicated order Flint has ever heard. 

 

Flint just stares at him, and Silver actually looks sheepish. “Too much?”

 

“I’m not going to even try to make that, I need to maintain my dignity and reputation,” Flint tells him. “Do you even like coffee, or are you just looking for ways to mainline sugar?” 

 

It’s the most words he’s ever spoken to the man, and Silver’s slow smile is growing again, despite the line of people that’s growing behind him. 

 

“It’s a beautiful mixture of caffeine and sugar that keeps me hooked,” Silver says back just as smartly. “Let a man have this one sin, if it’s just energized sludge.”

  
Flint does a mock double take before he can stop himself. “Are you calling my coffee sludge, Mr. Silver?” 

 

The man pales slightly. “What I meant-” 

 

“You should go to Starbucks, then,” Flint tells him, a small part of him enjoying making the man squirm now, that the tables have been turned. “Their drinks certainly can contribute to your cavity risk.” 

 

Silver smirks then, adapting to this new turn in the conversation as Flint watches. “But they don’t have you to tell me off now, do they?” 

 

As Flint scowls and flushes in response, Silver says, “I think I’ll just have an iced latte, anyways. Wouldn’t want to risk the cavities.” He pauses, and then smirks even bigger. “You remembered my name!” 

 

Flint definitely flushes again. 

 

•••

 

 “I think you’re overreacting a bit,” Miranda says in a tone that Flint recognizes when he’s being unreasonable and Miranda is nicely trying to tell him off. They’re eating dinner out on the deck around the back of the house, a stir fry recipe that Flint had tried out.

 

“Who does that anyways?” Flint demands, as Miranda takes another bite. “He’s probably one of those assholes who hits on cashiers and ignores the fact that they’re paid to be nice to him and can’t tell him to fuck off.” 

 

“But are you only putting up with him because he’s a customer?” Miranda counters. “It just seems to me that you might just be interested.”  


 

“What?” Flint says. “No. Of course I’m not interested.” As the words fall out of his mouth though, he thinks about the way that Silver’s arms looked in his sleeveless shirt. 

 

“Even if just in a purely physical way,” Miranda continues, “You should know that it would not be in conflict with our relationship.” 

 

“I don’t want him,” Flint says. “I don’t know him, and don’t particularly want to.” That part is only half-true, though, and he knows Miranda knows him well enough that they both know he’s not being entirely honest. 

 

Miranda tries to hide her smirk, though, and says in a soothing tone, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t wish to, James.” She rubs the back of his hand over the table. “Just promise me you’ll do what makes you happy.”

 

Flint gives her a small smile, taking her soft hand in his. “You make me happy,” he says, and Miranda’s eyes soften. 

 

“You’re such a romantic,” she teases light-heartedly. 

 

They finish their dinner as the sun sets, retreating inside when it gets too cold to stay outside. 

 

 

•••

 

 

Silver lets his head dramatically hit the back of the sofa. He and Madi are sitting on it while eating take-out and swapping stories about their days. “So I tried to order something time consuming and he just straight up refused. Made me a good latte, though.”

 

Madi gives an exasperated huff. “You really like him?”

 

“Yeah,” Silver says with no small amount of misery. “I do. I saw him on his break the other day, reading some thick book in the corner of the shop. I wanted to ask him about the book, but then I also didn’t want to distract him because he looked so serene sitting there. For fuck’s sake, I’m caring about disturbing his break!”

 

She pokes him in the side with her foot. “John Silver, what have you been doing for the past several weeks?” 

 

“Trying to get him to admit that he finds me hot,” Silver replies. “He looks at me like you did when we first started dating, but he also seems to want to bludgeon me over the head most days.” 

 

“You’ve tried to charm him like you do others, then,” Madi says, and Silver squints at her.

 

“What are you saying?” 

 

“I’m saying that if what Eleanor has told me about him is true, he probably sees right through it.”  


 

Silver shifts up at that, setting down his pad thai. “What are you saying?” 

 

“The first time we met, I wanted nothing more than to slap you,” Madi says crisply. “You figured out that you didn’t need to put on that facade.”

 

“It’s not just a facade,” he bites back, stung. 

 

“I know that,” Madi says, putting a hand on his arm in apology. “But it is a show that you do like to put on, right?” 

 

Silver looks at her. “Maybe in part,” he allows. “But it is still a part of me.” 

 

“And I’m saying that you don’t need to put on that show if you do like him,” Madi tells him. “I love you, but you are a bit of an ass sometimes.” 

 

He looks at her, then lets his head fall back again. “You’re right.” 

 

“I know I am,” Madi tells him, moving to curl into his side. He can’t stay annoyed at her for long, though, and he puts an arm over her shoulders to help her get comfortable. “How about I go the coffee shop?” 

 

He lifts his arm so that he can look at her in the eye. “What- you?”

 

“Why not?” the woman counters. “Even if he only likes men, I can help you figure him out.”

 

Silver blinks at her. “You would do that?”  


 

“John Silver,” she says, patting him on the cheek as he processes this, “You’re a bit of an idiot when it comes to this, but I love you and would do just about anything for you.” The words have no heat to them, though, and the way she runs her thumb over his jaw alleviates his annoyance. 

 

He kisses her. “I’m sorry.”  


 

“I’ll go next week,” Madi replies, kissing him back. “Besides, I would like to meet this man you’re always talking about.” 

 

“You’re too good for me,” Silver says. “How’s it going with that woman you work with, anyways?” 

 

Madi lets out a soft chuckle. “She is a mystery that I am enjoying discovering. We have a meeting tomorrow, and I’m going to have to focus on my presentation and not her.” 

 

“Well, she better be good to my gorgeous girlfriend,” Silver tells her. “I should tell her that.”

 

Madi smiles. “She could eat you alive.” 

 

“Well, I’ll have to meet her one day if you finally ask her out, right?” Silver teases, and Madi groans as he laughs.

 

 

 •••

 

 

Flint is just drifting off to sleep when he hears the front door creak open downstairs. Beside him, Miranda is snoring lightly, her arm draped over his bare torso. She had a long day working at the museum today, and fell asleep quickly. 

 

He realizes who it must be, and anticipation curls in his gut. He carefully extricates her arm from around him, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she mumbles in her sleep.

 

Flint looks around for his shirt, but can only see his boxers, which he slides on quickly. Padding outside of the bedroom, he can see that someone turned on a light downstairs, and he creeps down the stairs as quickly as he can without waking Miranda up. 

 

Thomas turns around when he hears his footsteps, setting down his suitcase, and Flint’s heart flutters like it’s the first time all over again when Thomas smiles brightly at the sight of him. “I got an earlier flight back,” he says, and Flint crosses the room to hug him tightly. 

 

“I missed you,” he exhales into the taller man’s neck. “Three weeks is far too long.” 

 

Thomas squeezes back, kissing into the side of his neck and inhaling deeply. Flint allows himself to be maneuvered into a deep kiss, then, putting his hands around the back of the other man’s head and tugging at blond hair. He licks into Thomas’s mouth, sucking on his bottom lip with a small groan, as Thomas responds enthusiastically and puts his hands around him even tighter. 

 

Thomas breaks the kiss so that they can both breathe after a while. “If I get a welcome back like this, I should travel more often,” he teases, letting his hands drift over his bare waist, and Flint shivers, stepping closer to him.

  
  
“If you travel more often, I’m going to be quite upset,” Flint tells him, but can’t stop the grin coming to his face. “Miranda’s fast asleep, but we could wake her-”

 

“As much as I would love seeing my darling wife, she knew that I was coming in and told me with no uncertain terms that if I woke her up, she would have my guts for breakfast,” Thomas says. “Mind if we sit down?”

 

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me,” Flint complains as he follows Thomas to the lounge, settling down beside him and turning to face him. But his words are light-hearted, and he puts his hands on either side of Thomas’s face to trace his cheeks. “You look tired. How was your flight?”  


 

Thomas relaxes into his touch, letting Flint trace the lines at the corner of his eyes, the dark circles underneath. “Long. I’m glad to be home,” he answers, turning his head to press a kiss to his thumb. “I missed you dreadfully.”

 

“We should take a holiday, go the seaside,” Flint says. “If you and Miranda could get the time off, I could easily shut down the shop for a week.”  


 

Thomas leans in for another light kiss to his jaw. “Miranda mentioned that you have a new beau at the coffee shop, though. I would hate to take you away from that,” he jokes, and Flint stifles his groan into Thomas’s shoulder. 

 

“It’s nothing. He’s just some idiot who makes me burn coffee.” 

 

“I remember when you stayed overnight for the first time with me,” Thomas reflects. “You tried to make me fried eggs the next morning, but we ended up having to air out the kitchen from all that smoke.” 

 

“That was because you were very distracting while I was cooking,” Flint points out. “He’snot exactly clambering over the counter and sucking my cock like you did.” 

  
  
Thomas’s eyes crinkle, then, and Flint can’t help a fond smile to spread on his face in reply. “But he would gladly want to do so, according to Miranda?”

 

“She’s not even there to see it,” Flint says. “Honestly, the two of you are gossiping about me and this man too much.” He ignores the question though, and Thomas doesn’t press on.

 

“You are the main subject of our text conversations,” Thomas admits, and then leans forward to kiss Flint’s collarbone. “You must be freezing.”  


 

“Are you offering to warm me up?” Flint smirks, and goes willingly when Thomas pulls him until he’s more or less sitting on his lap.

 

  
“Like it’s a hardship,” he says, and Flint grabs onto his shoulders to keep his balance. “Did I tell you that I missed you?” 

  
  
“You should show me,” Flint suggests, before he kisses Thomas again, sweet and heady.

 

But before they can get to rechristening the couch, there’s another set of footsteps. They both lifts their heads to see Miranda enter the room, wrapped in a silky robe that clings to her curves.  


 

“My love,” she says warmly, and goes over to kiss Thomas over Flint’s shoulder. Flint smiles and slides off, despite the sad noise that Thomas makes at the sudden loss of his weight. 

 

“We didn’t mean to wake you,” Thomas says, but he’s smiling and taking Miranda’s hand in his. “You look more gorgeous every time I come back, dear.” 

 

“Hush, you,” Miranda says, but she blushes. Thomas has that effect on both Miranda and Flint. “James, as punishment, you must help me pull my husband back to bed.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Flint says, and together they lead Thomas upstairs so that they can collapse in the snug bed, limbs all tangled together in a warm heap. 

 

 

•••

 

 

“I’m just saying,” Silver says, “If you offered frappuccinos, you would get a lot more customers.” He had just learned that Flint was indeed the owner of the coffee shop, somehow not noticing that Eleanor and Billy followed his instructions all this time. Now he seemed to be determined to distract Flint from his other customers by hanging around the side of the counter while Flint made coffee orders. 

 

“Frappuccinos aren’t real. It’s a marketing ploy by Starbucks,” Flint tells him as he slides a flat white to a businesswoman waiting on the other side. “Also, I would get sued before I could blink.”

 

“I would sue them in return for you,” Silver offers. 

 

“You’re a lawyer?” Flint asks before he realizes it, and Silver smirks as if he knows that Flint is trying (and failing) to picture him in a suit jacket. 

 

“I used to be, before I got bored of wearing a tie every day.” He takes a sip of the coffee that Flint had made for him an hour ago, likely cold by now. “Plus, it didn’t sit right with me to be defending drunk drivers when one of them took part of my leg now, does it.” 

 

The words are said with in a tone that’s just a touch too light. Flint doesn’t let his eyes drift down to Silver’s prosthetic leg, but he stops from yelling at Silver for dripping coffee on the counter.He makes a thoughtful noise, when it looks like Silver’s waiting for an answer to that, and Silver lets out a brief puff of air. 

 

“Would you let me be your lawyer?” Silver says, then, as Flint mops the counter, pushing his elbow out of the way to do so. 

 

“I would rather pay Starbucks in apology,” Flint replies. 

 

“I don’t know,” Silver says thoughtfully. “I feel that you would convince me to take on this huge corporation, this war between them and a small-time coffee shop owner, where the odds are stacked against us. Then you would just disappear one day, leave me to fight off the blood sucking fiends that corporate lawyers are.”

 

Flint fixes him a look over the bottles of syrup. “I don’t run from things.” 

 

“I suppose you don’t,” Silver says, studying him. There’s a strange tension in his brow, and Flint stops wiping for a second to stare back. 

 

Silver lets out another strange breath, like he’s surprised, but before Flint can read into it, he says, “You know, I actually need to run now. Try not to burn down any Starbucks while I’m gone, handsome.” 

 

Flint rolls his eyes at the last bit, ready to retort, but then Silver really does leaves too quickly for him to respond. Flint furrows his brow as he tries not to think about how he feels as though something is missing now that the man is gone. 

 

“Are you two-” Billy starts from where he’s popped up behind Flint. 

 

“No,” Flint barks, cutting him off.

 

 

•••

 

 

If he makes sure a stool is propped up by the back counter, at just the right height so that someone could take the strain off a prosthetic leg, for example, while still being able to look over the row of syrup bottles, it’s because it could also be used to hold cleaning supplies while Flint mops the floor at night. 

 

He asks Miranda over breakfast once about accessibility in buildings, and she fixes him a fond smile before sending him some articles online on how to make establishments more handicap-accessible. It’s for the greater good of the community, Flint thinks to himself, and any additional benefit for particular individuals, well, is just a bonus. 

 

Miranda whispers to Thomas that night, while Flint is fast asleep between them, and they study the man between them, already foreseeing what he stubbornly refuses to admit.

  

•••

 

 

Despite all of the Hamiltons’ coaxing to spend the day in bed together the next Saturday, Flint does leave the next morning to open up the coffee shop.

 

It’s a slow day, though, and already Flint is considering just closing before Eleanor or Billy get here. He’s only been open for half an hour when he looks up, though, and sees a woman standing in front of the counter. 

 

She has dark skin, curving cheekbones and dark round eyes that fix Flint in place, and he feels the absurd need to fix his hair or something in her presence. Either way, he wipes his hands on his apron and stands straight when she looks him right in the eye. 

 

“I’ve heard that you make excellent lattes here,” the woman says, and Flint gives her a quick nod. 

 

“I can, ma’am. What sort of milk would you like?”

 

“Soy, please,” the woman says. “You are Mr. Flint, are you not?” 

 

He pauses at that. “I am.” 

 

“I am close friends with Eleanor Guthrie,” the woman says. “She speaks very highly of you.”

 

“Ah,” Flint says after a moment. “That’s- good. Might I ask your name?”  


 

“Madi Scott,” she says, lifting her hand. Flint shakes it firmly, and the woman’s mouth quirks into a smile. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

 

Flint nods again, and then releases her hand just a second too late. “Yes,” he says with a start, and the woman laughs, a soft trill that makes his cheeks warm. 

 

“Do I see that you’re reading Cervantes?” Madi asks, tilting her head to the book on the counter behind him. 

 

Flint follows her gaze, picking up the book. “I read La Galatea as a boy,” he says, surprised. “But I never did get around to reading Don Quixote, oddly enough, so I figured that I would remedy that.”

 

“That is a beautiful edition you have there,” Madi says. “A translation?”  


 

“Unfortunately, as I don’t speak Spanish,” Flint says with a brief upturn of his mouth. “Would you like to see it while I make your coffee?”  


 

Her smile illuminates her face, and Flint is unprepared for the way that his heart stutters for a moment in his chest. “I would love to,” Madi says, taking the book from him. 

 

Flint only manages to sneak a glance at her while he prepares her drink, her eyelashes fluttering as she ran her fingertips down the edge of the embossed cover, opening the book briefly to look at a page. 

 

When he hands her the coffee, she exchanges it for the book, and says, “ _Translating from one language to another is like looking at Flemish tapestries from the wrong side, for although the figures are visible, they are covered by threads that obscure them, and cannot be seen with the smoothness and color of the right side_.” Her hand brushes against his. “An incomplete translation, ironically.” 

 

Flint inhales in surprise, as Madi’s mouth curves up into a smile. “Are you saying I should learn Spanish?” 

 

“Mr. Flint, I think a curious man like yourself would be up to any challenge,” Madi says with a sly smile, and Flint stares after her as she leaves the coffee shop. 

 

 

•••

  

Madi shuts the door behind her, and Silver looks up. “Well?” 

 

“I like him,” she exhales, and Silver looks delighted. 

 

“He was there?” 

 

“He showed me the book he was reading. He’s reading Cervantes for fun, John,” she says, and Silver looks surprised. 

 

“Hold on, you really do like him.”  


 

“I daresay he liked me too,” Madi says with a smirk. “How on Earth is it taking you this long to ask him out?” 

 

Silver scuffs his shoe on the ground. “Ah, about that.”  


 

“John?”

 

“It’s just I don’t want it to get strange if he doesn’t feel the same,” Silver confesses, and Madi’s eyes go round. “I genuinely enjoy being in his presence, and he’s warming up to me. He’s terribly sharp and stubborn and- and I don’t want to ruin whatever it is between us.” 

 

“John,” Madi says, and crosses the room to take his hand. “You do know you said the same to me before we started dating.” 

 

“Yeah, but you saw through me and asked me out in the first place,” Silver says. “I would honestly expect the sun to explode before James Flint asked me out. Besides, I only ever see him when he’s working.”

 

“So? That’s why you ask him out,” Madi says. “You deserve this.”  

 

•••

  

“Surely you don’t hate pineapple on pizza, right?” Silver accuses with a mock horrified gasp. 

 

Flint pauses from where he’s sweeping. He’s already closed the coffee shop, but Silver had arrived ten minutes before, so he let him stay while he cleans. “It’s too sweet, and pineapple is fruit. You don’t put blueberries on pizza, it’s disgusting!”

 

“You’re disgusting,” Silver informs him. “I’m going to have to bring you Hawaiian pizza and you’re going to love it, old man.” 

 

“I’m not an old man,” Flint grouses, but Silver laughs brightly, and he can’t find it in himself to care, as he hits Silver’s leg with the broom to get him to move. 

 

Silver brings him a decorative pineapple key chain which Flint absolutely refuses to hang on his apron then in the store, but if it goes on his car’s key chain, well then, no one needs to know. 

 

•••

  

“What are you laughing about?” Thomas asks, letting his fingers trail on the ends of Miranda’s dark hair that spill over the back of her chair besides him on the couch. She’s sitting besides him, with Flint stretched out on his other side. 

 

“I’m texting her,” Miranda says, fingers flittering over her phone before she sets it down, a nervous bubble in her chest. “We’re going to dinner tonight.” 

 

Thomas hums. “I haven’t seen you this interested in anyone since- well, James, actually.”

 

“What was that?” Flint mumbles from where he’s half-asleep on Thomas’s lap, tired after a long day of being on his feet. 

 

Thomas uses his other hand to stroke at the back of Flint’s neck, smiling when the touch makes Flint nuzzle more into his hand, until he’s turning so that he’s lying with his face up. “Just asking Miranda about the new woman in her life.” 

 

Flint opens a green eye. “I didn’t know you were interested in women.” 

 

“Neither did I, but I suppose life is full of discovery,” Miranda says absent-mindedly, already texting again. She sets down the phone after a moment. “I suppose I never thought about it when I was younger, just never pursued the thoughts or passed them off as something else. But this woman- she’s something special, I think.”

 

Thomas meets Flint’s eye. “I know the feeling,” he says softly, and Flint’s mouth turns up in a half-smile. 

 

For a moment, Flint pictures Silver sitting besides them, and it strikes him just how _right_ the picture sounds to him. He can see Silver joking with Thomas, or perhaps trying to charm an unimpressed Miranda, eventually making her laugh in that airy way she does. 

 

He shakes off the thought, though, and kisses the inside of Thomas’s wrist.

 

“Can you two find something to do tonight?” Miranda asks with a cheeky smile, then. “I don’t mean to throw you two out, but I plan on having an excellent date, and I don’t want to bring her back to you two reading books like old men in the bedroom.” 

 

Thomas throws a hand on his chest mockingly. “My wife, throwing her husband and our lover out of the house. The scandal!”

 

“Love you,” Miranda says, kissing him on the cheek.

 

 

•••

  

Madi strains her head trying to see if she can see her date walk in the restaurant door. She hasn’t been this nervous in a very long time, even though she has been reassured many times that her feelings have been very much requited. This is their first official date, and she is surprised at how much she wants this to go well, _needs_ it to go well. She was far less nervous when she first went out with John, but she ended up loving him, so the promise of a future is thrilling and anxiety-wracking. 

 

“A glass of wine to start, ma’am?” The waiter inquires, coming by to hand her a menu. Madi accepts, but while she’s still reading the paper, a shadow falls across her vision. 

 

“Hello, Madi,” Miranda says, and after a moment, she leans in to kiss her. She smells like violets and lemons, a startling combination of scents that makes Madi’s head spin just slightly at the soft movement of her lips. Or perhaps that’s because Miranda is wearing a low-cut green dress that makes her eyes look dark and transfixing, the pale skin of her chest revealed in a deep cut of fabric. Madi is struck by the sight for a moment, as Miranda sits down across from her. 

 

“You look absolutely stunning,” Madi says, and Miranda blushes the tiniest amount, the pink flooding the tops of her cheeks. 

 

“I wanted to look my best, I’ll admit. It’s not everyday that you are invited to dinner by the most beautiful woman in the world,” Miranda says just as smoothly in return, and now it’s Madi’s turn to blush, clearing her throat so that she can order them wine. 

 

The dinner did go excellently, Madi thinks to herself later, as she pushes Mirandadown onto the woman’s bed, a quick drive later. If Miranda looked ethereal in the soft candlelight of the restaurant, she looks even better naked against the pale blue sheets, her hands twisting and clutching at the material as Madi licks down her hipbones, her mouth teasing on the insides of her thighs.

 

“God, you’re incredible,” Miranda moans, and when Madi gives her a cheeky smile, Miranda passes a thumb over her cheekbone, looking just as stunned as Madi feels, as she dips her head down to taste her.

  

•••

  

“Are we really old men?” Flint wonders out loud. They’re sitting in the car, driving back from the movies aimlessly, not wanting to disturb Miranda and her date. 

 

Thomas takes his hand from the passenger’s side. “Would it make you feel better if we parked somewhere and made out like reckless teenagers?” 

 

“That’s an offer I dare not refuse,” Flint says. He nearly says, _But it’ll be hell on my back_ , before he realizes that that is certainly an old-man thing to say, and he pales. 

 

Thomas rubs his thumb across the back of his hand comfortingly. “You keep me young, my love.”  

 

•••

  

It’s late when Madi gets back, and Silver can practically see her glowing from the doorway, her dress slightly wrinkled.

 

“How was it?” he gets out, before Madi quite literally jumps him, pushing him back on the couch. He makes a muffled sound of surprise as she kisses him hard. 

 

“I think-” she says between desperately kissing Silver’s face in between her hands, and Silver is all too willing to comply, “That you two ought to meet.” Madi bites on his lower lip, then, and pulls back just enough to add, “I’ve already come twice tonight, but what is it, three times is the charm?” 

 

Silver is all too willing to kiss her back, sliding his hands up her side with a groan at her words, before Madi is pulling him up and leading him to their bedroom.

  

•••

  

“What if-” Flint starts, and then cuts off, taking a large sip of orange juice instead, that he wishes had vodka in it as well right now. He needed to have this conversation, but didn’t want to face both Hamiltons at once. Miranda was in the shower, so he took the opportunity. 

 

Thomas, reading a newspaper across from him, looks up. “What was that?” 

 

“What if I do like him,” Flint starts, and his cheek starts to color at the words, and he stops. “That sounds so juvenile-” 

 

“James,” Thomas says patiently, folding his newspaper in half, “If you’re worried about Miranda or I being jealous, let me reassure you, the heart is not limited in any capacity.”

 

Flint nods once, and lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. If anything, he falls more in love with the man sitting across from him in that moment, his hair curling just slightly from the shower he had taken this morning, this kindness that he’s been gifted for some reason. 

 

Thomas’s mouth curls up in a smile, then. “Even if you just want to sleep with him, the only thing I would ever expect from you is any sordid details you want to share,” and Flint lets out a shaky laugh. 

 

“Shall I accompany you to the Walrus this morning? I could use one of your delightful mochas,” Thomas requests, and Flint tells him that he would like nothing more.

 

•••

 

It’s raining, and Silver is in a terrible mood. He had planned to get the coffee shop early to ask Flint out, but then he had left his umbrella in the apartment and had run back to get it. Only he realized belatedly that he had left his key inside, and Madi had already left for the day, so he was forced to walk in the rain to the coffee shop.

 

His mood only soured when he walks in and sees Flint talking to another man. The other man is tall, blonde, and the curve of his body in response to whatever Flint is saying hints at intimacy that Silver is instantly, _ridiculously_ jealous of. 

 

He considered leaving, but then Flint laughs, and the sound captivates Silver. Silver is struck by the intense desire he has to make Flint laugh like that, he realizes, and something thuds hard in his chest. 

 

But before he can turn on his heel, the man looks over and sees Silver standing there. He’s handsome, with shining blue eyes and a kind face, but Silver just feels his heart plummet further. No wonder Flint didn’t respond to his flirting, not when he had that man at home. Christ, he’s an idiot. 

 

The man’s eyebrows raise then, but he looks contemplative. Flint looks over then, and Silver is struck once more when he sees Flint’s mouth parts slightly, before he’s snapping his jaw closed again. 

 

It seems like ages pass as Silver walks over, and Flint turns to fully face him by the time he gets to the counter.

 

“You’re soaking wet,” Flint says finally, when Silver just gapes at him. “I just mopped this floor, too.” 

 

“I was going to ask you out,” Silver blurts out, and Flint’s eyebrows fly up. “But, ah, I didn’t know you were seeing someone, and I hope he makes you happy, so, um. There’s that.”  


 

Flint just looks at him, and from behind him, the other man ducks his head as if to hide a smile. Silver’s ears burn, and he begins to turn, but then Flint’s hand is grasping at his wrist, suddenly. The touch radiates warmth up Silver’s arm, and he turns to gape now at Flint. 

 

“Hold on-” Flint hisses, then seemingly makes a decision. Silver can only stare as Flint lets go of his wrist to jump over the counter in a surprisingly acrobatic gesture, landing with a thud besides Silver. 

 

“You really could have just walked around, you know,” Silver says faintly, but then Flint looks determined. 

  
  
“I do love Thomas,” he says, and Silver braces himself for the rejection no doubt coming next, so he’s thrown when the man continues, “And I’m also in love with Miranda. Thomas’s wife.”

 

The name sounds vaguely familiar, but Silver can only look at Flint with wide eyes. “What?” 

 

“It’s not unheard of,” Flint continues, his eyes fixed on Silver’s face. “I know- it might sound strange at first, but it works. It’s just a part of who I am, and I want to try with you, if you’ll have me.” 

 

“What,” Silver says, his mind reeling. 

 

The man scowls, and Silver realizes that he probably has taken Silver’s stare for something else. “You drive me crazy, but somehow that’s worked-” and Flint is cut off by Silver’s mouth pressing against his. 

 

Silver kisses him like he’s dying for it, his hands coming up to clutch at Flint’s collar until he’s pressing him against the counter. Faintly, he can hear whistles- from the other customers in the coffee shop, he realizes- as he tastes Flint’s mouth, drags his tongue on the roof of his mouth until Flint is shivering and opening up to him. 

 

Flint kisses him back, hands coming up to twist into Silver’s hair just shy of painful, pressed up against him. They break free when Silver starts to go slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen, and then they’re staring at each other, faces close together. 

 

Silver nearly jumps when there’s a hand on his shoulder. “I’m Thomas Hamilton,” the man offers from where he walked over. “Not to interrupt, but it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Silver.” 

 

Silver turns slightly, but Flint’s hands in his hair keep him from moving too much. “Ah- yes. Nice to meet you, and all.”

 

Thomas beams at them. “I’ll see you later, James,” he says, then walks out with a bounce to his step. Flint and Silver watch him go, and Flint lets out a shaky laugh that Silver can feel on his wet lips, making something coil low in his gut. 

 

“He’s something else, isn’t he,” Silver says, and turns back to look at Flint. Flint, who is still so close to him, looks impossibly fond. “I like you, in case you haven’t figured that out.” 

 

“He is,” Flint agrees. “I hope you’ll grow to like him as well.” 

 

At those words, the promise of a future between them, makes Silver feel as though he is floating. He brings Flint in for another kiss, despite the fact that there are definitely more people than he would have hoped looking at them now, and when Flint smiles into the kiss, he can feel his heart soar. 

 

“Oh my fucking god,” Eleanor says. “I’m texting Billy about this.”

 

 

•••

 

 

Silver walks with a bounce to his step back up to the apartment, Flint by his side. He had convinced Flint to close up the shop by some minor miracle, and he was ready to peel off that button down and find out just how low the freckles visible from the gap in his shirt went down.

 

Only the apartment is not empty, when he opens the door. Madi is there at the table, but what surprises him is the dark-haired woman straddling his girlfriend’s lap, kissing underneath her jaw. 

 

“What- oh, you must be Miranda,” Silver says in the doorway. Behind him, Flint takes a step, then freezes.

 

“Miranda?”  


 

“James?” The woman utters, then realization spreads across her face as she gets off Madi’s lap. “Oh, you’re John Silver,” she continues, adjusting her blouse as she talks. “I’m Miranda Hamilton.” 

 

Silver opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, his mind whirling. 

 

“Apologizes, I didn’t know you were coming back with him tonight,” Madi says, getting up and pressing a kiss to Silver’s slack mouth. “Mr. Flint, it’s good to see you again.” 

 

“Wait- you two are dating?” Flint says. 

 

“Miranda and I, or Silver and I?” Madi asks. “Because yes, to both.”

 

Flint looks momentarily stunned, so Silver takes the opportunity to hiss, “I thought you told him you were my girlfriend!” at Madi. 

  
“I thought you would have brought it up by now! I only saw him the once, anyways,” Madi bites back. “How did _you_ not bring it up?”

 

Miranda looks between the two of them. “James, I believe I’m dating Mr. Silver’s girlfriend.” 

 

“Yes,” Flint says. “Yes, I think you are.”

  

•••

 

When Miranda tells Thomas of this particular coincidence, he laughs until he nearly goes blue in the face. 

 

Flint very nearly sulks that he didn’t put it together beforehand, and Silver is still just slightly taken off guard by the whole thing. It makes sense, somehow, and he’s just happy that everyone is content in the setup. 

 

Madi is proud that her new girlfriend has excellent taste in other lovers.

 

 

•••

 

 

Sex with Flint is electrifying. Silver quickly catches onto just how to make Flint moan so perfectly, how he’s sensitive at the joint of his neck and shoulder, that he likes when Silver tugs on his hair just enough so that it begins to hurt.

 

He shouldn’t be surprised with just how fixated Flint is in bed, having long known that the man does everything with a singular intensity. What he doesn’t quite predict is just how willing Flint is in giving up control to those he trusts, when he sometimes lets Silver pins him down and just has his way with him. 

 

It thrills him, and it’s damn near perfect. 

 

But then Flint rolls off of him one night, and they’re both gasping to catch their breath again, when he says, “Do you miss her?”

 

Silver frowns for a moment at that. He knows that Flint knows that he’s sharing a bed with both him and Madi still, so the words don’t make much sense. “I’m not really thinking about her when I’m in bed with you. Trust me, you give me plenty to focus on,” and his hand slips under the sheet to caress Flint’s hip, just to feel goosebumps form on his skin. 

 

“But would you want to?” Flint asks again, and Silver is still confused, not understanding. He opens his mouth to ask, but then sees how Flint’s ears are turning pink, and- _oh._

 

That, Silver thinks to himself, might be beyond perfect. He pictures kissing Madi’s neck as she sits astride Flint, holding him down as Madi fucks up and down, or both of them going down on Flint until he’s just begging for it. 

 

If he wasn’t completely spent, he would grow hard at just the thought, and Silver has to muffle a moan in Flint’s shoulder in response. Flint takes that as a positive sign. 

 

 

•••

 

 

Madi is pretty enthusiastic about the idea, which is something in itself, considering based on the bruises that Miranda likes to leave on her flesh, she’s been having a rather active sex life recently. Silver finds out that he rather likes the sight of Flint tied up to their headboard with one of Madi’s scarves, Madi telling him exactly where to touch him, touch her, until he’s nearly blind with pleasure, shaking as he comes.

 

But it’s beyond sex, too. Flint and Madi are both early risers, and they like to talk about books in the morning over steaming cups of coffee and brioche, long before Silver is aware of the world. They are uncannily similar (Silver has a type, all right) and roll their eyes when Silver lets wildly impossible stories fly out of his mouth, of his youth, like the time he lived in Iceland for six months on a goat farm.

 

Sometimes, Madi and Silver will head to the coffee shop together after work, and they’ll take turns teasing and hitting on Flint outrageously until Billy or Eleanor has to get them to sit far away from the counter, lest Flint breaks yet another mug at a particularly salacious comment. 

 

Silver looks over to where Flint and Madi are curled up beside him, both fast asleep, and he thinks to himself that he’s the luckiest goddamn man in the world. 

 

•••

  

“Are you telling me that all this time, you don’t even like coffee?” Silver demands, stretched out on the couch like a charcoal sketch come to life, all long lean lines and dark hair pulled to the side in the hazy evening light. 

 

He prods the side of Flint’s head with his foot, making the other man shift slightly with a huff where his head is tilted back onto Madi’s lap at the other end of the couch. Madi is idly running strands of Flint’s hair through her fingers, and the sensation is just nice enough that Flint can’t bring himself to any true indignant response. 

 

“It’s coffee. I don’t hate it, I don’t love it. Unlike you, I’m not addicted to caffeine.” 

 

“You own a coffee shop,” Madi says, her mouth quirked now, her fingers now rubbing soft circles on Flint’s scalp. “Do you mean to say that it happened by chance?” 

 

“It all happened very quickly,” Flint tries. “And it wasn’t _by chance-”_

 

Both Madi and Silver roll their eyes above his head, and Silver sits up to press a kiss on the top of Flint’s head. “We would still love you even if you were a gas station owner, dear.” The words flow out of his mouth like second nature, and he briefly pauses, wondering if it’s too soon for such declarations. 

 

Instead, Flint threatens, “Call me dear one more time, I’ll only serve and buy decaf from here on out,” and Madi laughs when Silver makes a dying sound just at the thought. 

 

“I’m meeting Miranda for lunch. Don’t make John drink decaf,” Madi tells Flint, before leaning in to kiss them both. 

 

It’s good, what they have.

 

 

•••

 

 

Silver doesn’t interact much with the Hamiltons, all considering. Between Flint and Madi, he thinks he’s content. 

 

But then they even start to have dinners together, hosted at the Hamilton’s brownstone home. Madi, Silver, Flint, and the Hamiltons crowd around the table, have spirited conversations and indulge in plenty of wine.

 

Silver worried at first that it would be strained or odd, or there would be divides. But then over the first dinner, Thomas laughs at a clever comment Madi makes, as they’re talking about a rare book store that’s opened up in the city. Miranda and Silver share a look, fond at the people around them, while Flint swears in the background when he’s attempting to cook some difficult dish for dinner. 

 

Sometimes Silver wonders if he’s somehow second, stuck behind Thomas in Flint’s eyes, if perhaps sharing a bed and sharing a life are two different things. He’s nearly afraid at how quickly he falls in love with Flint, realizes that he can’t live without him, just like he can’t live without Madi. He sees how Flint’s eyes follow Thomas whenever they’re in the same room, and a small part of him voices those concerns, even as he tries to squash it down, reminds himself that he should know that it is possible to love more than one person. 

 

But he’s comforted in the way that Flint snores into Silver’s shoulder at night, or even how Flint is wilder, more volatile with him than with either of the Hamiltons, or even with Madi. How they can go from arguing over the right method to parallel parking to Flint showing him how to make designs in the milk froth, his hands strong and warm over Silver’s. When Silver has bad days with his prosthetic, it’s Flint who he tolerates the most, bringing him warm compresses, letting Silver lash out when he’s hurt. 

 

They haven’t talked about it, but Silver needs him, loves him, and he thinks that it might be the same for Flint.

 

 

•••

 

 

Thomas is the one who corners Silver, oddly enough. “James thinks that you’re uncomfortable in some way, and while he might be content to let it be unresolved, I want to be straightforward about it,” he says, in tone that is not unkind, even though it is rather direct. 

 

Silver swallows. “What are you talking about?” he queries, but Thomas’s eyes are fixed on his face, and if there was someone in the world that Silver feels most uncomfortable lying to, it would be Thomas Hamilton. 

 

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Silver amends, as Thomas just waits for him to talk. “I- I just worry that this isn’t going to work out. That if someone gets their feelings hurt-” and he doesn’t add that he thinks in any situation, he thinks it would be him that would be cut out first, that he would do something that would lead to a rift between him and James, or even him and Madi or with one of the Hamiltons- “and it goes badly.” Silver doesn’t want to think about that though, so he swallows again. 

 

Thomas nods, and his eyes are serious, even as he looks to take Silver’s words in contemplation. “It might,” he says, which is- unexpected. But not entirely unwelcome, as he addresses Silver’s fears next.“Have I ever told you what Miranda told me when I asked her to marry me?” 

 

Silver gives a small smile at the mention. Miranda has shown him wedding photos- they truly have always been in love from near the moment they met. “What was it?”  


 

“She said that it could all go terribly,” Thomas says, and Silver snorts. “She told me that we could grow old and grouchy, and twenty years down the line, we could break apart in a torrential divorce, make each other miserable while splitting apart.” 

 

“I really don’t see that ever happening,” Silver says honestly, and Thomas smiles, soft and fond. 

 

“Me neither. But I told her, even if that were the case, I would still love her today, and I would be the happiest man for those twenty years, then.” 

 

Silver stares at him not quite comprehending, and Thomas continues, “I can’t picture my life without her. I can’t picture my life without James, either. And I think,” and his hands come up to Silver’s shoulders, “That without you and Madi, I wouldn’t be happy either.” 

 

He leaves Silver, then, to think about his words. 

 

Flint is half-asleep when he joins him in bed, and Silver has to push him over to make room after taking off his prosthetic, Flint not even moving when it falls to the ground with a thunk. It’s just the two of them tonight, and he lets Silver put his cold foot in between his feet. 

 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Flint grumbles, and Silver smiles into the skin of his back. 

 

Silver begins to see just how limitless hearts can be.

 

 

•••

 

 

Miranda, curled up with Madi spooning her from behind, lets out a contemplative sound. Madi squeezes her a little tighter. “What is it?” 

 

It’s dark in the bedroom, but Miranda turns around slightly so that her voice isn’t muffled by the pillow. “I was just thinking.” 

 

Madi presses a soft kiss to the back of her neck. “Would you like to tell me?” 

 

Miranda smiles at the touch, puts her hand over where Madi’s are clasped on her stomach, tracing small circles. She decides to go for it. “Thomas and I were wondering if you and Silver wanted to move in with us. I haven’t brought it up with James, but I would assume he feels the same way.”  


 

Madi’s fingers stop tracing circles for a second. “You would like that?” 

 

“I would love it,” Miranda says, and now she turns so that she can see Madi’s face, edged by the light from the street lamp filtering through the low window. “We have the two bedrooms already, plus the guest room, but if there needs to be more space we canwork it out.” 

 

Madi smiles, bringing up the other woman’s hand so that she can press a kiss to her fingertips. “Let me talk to John about it,” she says. 

 

“But would you want to?” Miranda presses. “I’m not asking you to choose between him or I, but if you would want that.” 

 

Madi feels the shift of the blanket as Miranda crosses her ankles, a nervous gesture. “Do you think I do not want to live with you?”  


 

“Thomas warned me when I told him I would ask you that I can be awfully convincing,” the other woman says with a wry chuckle. “I just want to be clear that it is in no ways a means to pressure you, or to quickly change our living situation or relationship.” 

 

Madi’s mouth finds its way to hers, landing just slightly off the corner of her mouth in the dark. After a moment, she pulls back, and Miranda can feel her exhale on her face. “I would love to,” she says, and Miranda just has to kiss her again, smiling into the kiss. 

 

“I never thought I would have something like this,” she admits, and Madi’s hand squeezes hers. 

  
“With a woman?” 

  
  
“In part, yes,” Miranda says, but she doesn’t continue her thought. However curious Madi is, she doesn’t want to push, so she squeezes her hand again.

 

“Thank you,” she says, and Miranda smiles in the dark. 

 

Then Madi wonders out loud, “Do you want me to talk to Flint about it?” 

 

Once again, Miranda is secretly amused that both Madi and Silver both call James by his last name, and she lets out a chuckle.

 

“I think Thomas said he would bring it up with him,” Miranda says.

 

 

•••

 

 

Flint’s head hits the wall as Thomas drops to his knees. “God, I love you,” he breathes out, as Thomas begins to unbuckle his belt, sucking a mark onto his hip that stands a dark red against the pale skin there. Flint’s hand finds its way into Thomas’s blond strands, tugging gently. 

 

“Actually, before I put my mouth to better use,” Thomas says, enjoying how Flint’s eyes are darkening when he runs his hands up and down the outside of his legs, “I meant to ask. Would you want John and Madi to live with us?” 

 

Flint blinks, trying to gather his thoughts apart from the feeling of Thomas’s hands on him. “Have you asked them?” 

 

“I think Miranda wanted to bring it up with Madi, and then perhaps one of them planned on asking John,” Thomas says, a bit apologetically. “It was a well-meant gesture, just not planned out, now that I’m thinking of it.”

 

“Oh,” Flint repeats. Something warm curls up in his chest, and he puts a hand on the side of Thomas’s face. “I would like that.” 

 

“Good,” Thomas says, then gives Flint’s other hip a bite. “Now hold still, I’m about to show you just how appreciative I am of you.”

 

Flint huffs out a laugh at his candor, and then lets out another loose moan. 

 

Then they both hear the door open, and Silver himself rounds the corner. “There you are- oh. Sorry,” he says, looking with wide eyes to where Thomas is on his knees. 

 

Flint opens his mouth, but then Thomas presses on his hips, pushing them to the wall, and a low sound comes out instead of words. “John, I was just showing my appreciation for our James here,” he says, and Silver’s mouth parts at the use of ‘our’. 

 

“I don’t suppose,” he says, taking the chance to step forward, not yet touching either of them, “I could assist you, perhaps?”

 

Flint’s eyes dart up from Thomas to Silver. He’s slightly surprised, as this particular territory is unexplored for them. He has yet to be in any sort of sexual situation with the two of them, but now that Thomas is before him, Silver standing right there, well, it feels _right_. 

 

Thomas and Silver share a look that Flint can’t quite decipher, and then both of them are turning to Flint. “I think that would be amenable, if it’s all right with you,” Thomas speaks up, looking up at him.

 

Flint only nods, now looking at Silver, who steps forward. His touch is hot on Flint’s abdomen, where his fingers trail up to ruck up his shirt, as Thomas places another kiss on his hip. “I think he deserves it,” Silver murmurs, as Thomas unzips his trousers.

 

The two sets of hands on his is far from foreign, but these two in particular is new and unexpected, and Flint moans again, louder, as Thomas takes him into his mouth, and Silver leans in to lightly bite at his earlobe. 

 

Neither of them get to talking to Silver about moving in then, as there were more pleasurable distractions to be had in that moment.

 

 

 

•••

 

 

It’s Miranda, in fact, who brings the topic up with Silver.

 

Silver internally panics at the idea, until Miranda sees right through him and proceeds to scold him.

 

“You worry about complications just as much as James does,” she says. “What I am asking is just what you want. What do you want, John Silver?” 

 

Silver wants to deny it, but her words ring true. He wants everything, with James, with Madi, and now, he realizes, with the Hamiltons. He loves them all, and there isn’t a way to separate those loves in his heart. Miranda is unashamedly direct, and he’s both parts annoyed and thankful that she has cut through his self-imposed angst for this, to make him realize that what he wants is in his grasp. 

 

“Only if we make Flint carry the boxes,” he says in return, and Miranda kisses him on the cheek. 

 

“Of course. Now, would you mind going to the grocery store with me? We’re out of milk and I want to see if the strawberries are on sale.” 

 

Silver extends his arm, “Right away, ma’am,” he says grandly in his best impersonation of Flint’s clipped, more formal voice, and Miranda laughs when he escorts her to the car.

 

 

•••

 

 

Moving out of the apartment is a mess. Madi and Silver have managed to accumulate a wide variety of items over several years, and neither of them are actually very good at moving out. 

 

Flint tries to keep them to a schedule, but he is the only one who seems intent on such strict parameters. “It’ll be most efficient,” he tries, even as he sees Miranda open up one of the boxes to hold up a vivid blue sweater. “Miranda!”

 

“Darling, you should wear this color forever, why are you throwing it away?” she says to Madi, who is in the middle of packing some dishes with bubble wrap, and both ignoring Flint. 

  
“I love that sweater, but it’s got a hole in the sleeve,” Madi says. “I just don’t have the patience to fix it.” 

 

“James is quite good at simple fixes, actually,” Thomas offers, where he’s helping John carry a box of random knickknacks to the car. “You should ask him.”  


 

“I’m right here,” Flint says, “And we are officially behind schedule.” 

 

He’s actually made a list of the bags and boxes that they packed, and the tasks to be done. Thomas and Silver share a despairing look behind his back. 

 

“I love you, but you’re terrible at making this fun,” Silver tells Flint, sneaking a kiss to his cheek when they pass behind him, and Flint only half-heartedly pulls away. “Miranda, pass me that tape?” 

 

Miranda complies. “James, can you check to see if the car has gas?” She sweetly requests, and Flint goes, muttering under his breath. 

 

Thomas watches him go, then turns to his wife. “But didn’t you stop on the way here?” 

 

“I know,” Miranda says. “But we just needed to give him something to do.”

 

 •••

  

“Fuck,” Madi says, and Thomas makes an agreeing sound. 

 

“Fuck,” he repeats. “I don’t suppose you know how to change a tire?” 

 

“I make John do it, I’m not usually the one driving the car anyways,” she admits, slumping against the front. “How hard could it be?” 

 

“James showed me once, but I’ll admit I have mostly forgotten,” Thomas says in return, looking down at the flat. They’ve pulled off to the side of the road, not in any danger, but the clouds overhead are looming and threatening rain in the near future. “Damn. I don’t want to call a tow truck.” 

 

Neither of them even bring up calling John or James. 

 

“Does Miranda?” Madi asks, beginning to sound desperate as they feel raindrops start to fall. 

 

Thomas rubs a hand over his jaw. “Perhaps?” He doesn’t sound sure, though. 

  
In the end, they call Billy, whom Thomas remembers Flint mentioning also worked at an auto repair place in addition to the coffee shop. 

 

Billy makes them watch as he changes their tire. “You’re both grown adults, how do you not know this?” he asks, as Madi and Thomas huddle together under an umbrella from Billy’s trunk. 

 

“We’ve been spoiled by those in our lives,” Thomas says, and Madi hums in agreement. 

 

“I cannot believe,” Billy starts, then cuts himself off with a world-weary sigh. 

 

In the end, Thomas and Madi make a pact to never mention it. Flint finds the used tire in the trunk a week later, but he lets it slide, for once.

  

 

•••

  

 

Miranda hums as she starts singing along to the radio. It’s some pop hit she recognizes, and she taps her foot along to the song.

 

  
Silver perks up. “I know this song!” He gets up, turning up the radio until it’s just a bit too loud. He starts to belt out the words in a warble. “ _Won’t let it go to waste-”_

 

_“-metaphorical gin and juice_ -” Miranda sings with him, slightly off-key, and before long, they’re swaying in the middle of the room, dancing alongside each other. 

 

Silver spins her around, and her foot catches the edge of the cable, cutting off the sound. They stop, but the third voice that filters in from the other room, “- _keep making love to each other_ -” before it too cuts off. 

 

They stare at each other. 

 

That night, over dinner, Silver nudges Flint’s shoulder. “You have a surprisingly good Selena Gomez impersonation, in case your passions extend beyond coffee shops,” he tells him with a straight face, and Miranda chokes a bit. 

 

Thomas and Madi just look confused as Flint tries to push the other man off his chair.

 

 

•••

 

 

Thomas remembers Flint’s suggestion one cloudy afternoon. “We should go to the beach,” he says, and four pairs of eyes are on him at once. They were in the lounge in the Hamilton’s house, Silver and Flint playing cards- Silver was winning, much to Flint’s annoyance- Miranda was reading some fiction novel, and Madi was painting her toes a bright scarlet color. 

 

“The beach?” Miranda asks, as Silver looks somewhat horrified, for some reason.

 

“In September?” Flint says, somewhat unconvinced. “It’s cold now.” 

 

“I’d like that,” Madi says, and Thomas is grateful that at least one person is on board with this. He sits up more, clears his throat. 

 

“I think we all deserve it. Plus, it’s late in the season, so there won’t be too many people there. We could make a lovely vacation out of it, pack a lunch and everything,” Thomas reasons, mostly to Silver, who looks unconvinced. 

 

“We could take the van,” Miranda hums. “There’s enough seating in that, right, James?”  


 

“There is,” Flint says, but squints his eyes. “What do you have against beaches, Silver?” 

 

“Nothing!” Silver exclaims, even though everyone looks at him with varying expressions of questioning. “I just don’t like the sand. I’m not huge on water, either, nor the screaming children, or the annoying teenagers-” 

 

“But Thomas just said that there won’t be many people there,” Miranda says. “And surely you wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity to see James in a bathing suit?” 

 

Silver arches an eyebrow at that thought, now looking considering, as Flint goes slightly red. “I’ll wear long pants and bring a book,” he grouses, but his annoyance is somewhat alleviates when Thomas puts a hand on his. 

 

“We can go next weekend,” Thomas decides, and since no one seems to have a fair argument against it, the plan is made. 

 

•••

 

  

On the way to the beach, Flint drives, Thomas sits in the front, and Silver is wedged between Miranda and Madi. Thomas plays a truly eccentric collection of music that Silver had provided him with, ranging from disco to hip hop to piano covers. Miranda and Madi alternate between taking photos out the window and of each other and Silver. 

 

(Later, Silver prints the one with Miranda and Madi kissing both of his cheeks, and both Thomas and Flint keep copies in their wallets). 

 

Silver suggests that he drive, and all of them quickly veto the idea.

 

•••

  

They get to the beach several hours later. It’s the middle of the day by the time they finally pull up to the sandy dunes. 

 

True to Thomas’s prediction, the beach is mostly empty, but at the cost being that it’s rather cold. The water is a dark green color that swirls gently onto the beach, but in the distance, there’s still fog that creeps on the surface, not quite burned up by the sun overhead. 

 

Miranda and Madi find a good place to lay blankets on the beach, where they strip off into bathing suits and hurry into the water, clutching at each other as they yelp at the icy water that laps at their feet. 

 

Flint stays behind for a moment to make sure the car is locked up and nothing valuable is left in it. Thomas and Silver start walking towards the women, carrying a cooler with beer and snacks in it between them. 

 

“This is nice,” Silver admits, as he and Thomas sit down in the sand. 

 

“It’s everything to do with the excellent company,” Thomas tells him, and they clink together two beer bottles they get out of the cooler. 

 

Flint catches up with them eventually, peeling off his shirt. Silver runs his hands over the man’s freckled chest, brushing off sand as an excuse, and Thomas throws his head back in a laugh, his teeth gleaming in the sun, as Flint splutters, but doesn't push Silver away either.

 

Eventually, Madi and Miranda rejoin them, the latter soaking wet from when Silver had run over and pushed her into the water. They huddle together under some beach towels, despite the sun shining overhead. 

 

Silver gives up his shirt so that Miranda can put something over her swimsuit to stay warm, much to his griping.

 

“Is that a boat on your chest?” Miranda asks, pointing at the tattoo. 

 

Silver actually has to crane down to look at his own chest. “Oh. Yes, it is. It was some abstract art I got when I was nineteen,” he says. “My friend had a tattoo gun and we were bored.”

 

“Sometimes, I worry on your past decisions,” Madi tells him, and he leans down to kiss her wetly and sloppily until she squeals, batting him away.

 

Miranda convinces Flint to stay still so that Thomas can slather sunscreen all over his shoulders and back, dotting kisses on his face when he’s done. Flint grumbles, but lets them maneuver him, Thomas running his hands everywhere, even sliding a bit underneath the waistband of his bathing suit. “It’s just going to wash off in the water,” he says, but the Hamiltons are nothing if but persistent, as Silver and Madi watch, amused.

 

Eventually, Flint and Thomas make it to the water. They all take a moment to appreciate the flex of Flint’s shoulders, powerful muscle still built up from his Navy days, when he swims out to the ocean. He seems impervious to the cold, but Thomas gets chilled within five minutes, and has to bundle up back with Madi and Miranda on the sand.

 

“Fine, I see your point on it being September,” Thomas calls to Flint in the ocean, who waves before diving back into the water. Silver drapes a towel over his shoulders. 

 

Eventually, they’re drinking and lying comfortably in the sun. Miranda and Silver are leaning back to back, with Thomas’s head on Miranda’s lap. Silver is flicking a bottle cap between this fingers, warm by Flint’s side, and Madi is taking pictures of them, laughing at some of the faces she gets. 

 

Thomas tells her that they should print the photos to put them up on one of the blank living room walls, and they launch into a discussion of modern art and personal museums. 

 

Surprisingly, it’s Silver who gets the worse sunburn. He complains wildly about it for the entire car trip back from the beach, claiming that if anyone, it should be Flint who has the sunburn. “He’s like the picture for skin cancer risk,” he says, and Flint rolls his eyes. 

 

Thomas tries to hide his laughter in a snort.

 

Flint just gets more freckles in the coming week, though, and Silver can’t resist running his tongue over the new ones. 

 

Madi is sympathetic at least, as she passes him aloe vera gel later at home to rub on the peeling skin. 

 

Miranda, on the other hand, tells him tartly, “That’s what you get for dunking me.” 

 

Silver figures he deserved that.

 

Flint looks around at the four others, these people he loves, and he thinks to himself, _this is happiness._

  

•••

  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just more happy domestic fluff to deal with that finale angst!! as always, I deeply appreciate any/all comments :) 
> 
> in this installment: hennessey comes to town, book (mis)adventures, and birthday celebrations!

There’s a loud thud, and then a telling silence.

 

Thomas puts down his book. “Are you all right?”

 

There’s a long pause. Then, Miranda calls, “Just fine!”

 

He considers the loud clatter that had preceded the thud and begins to sit up. “Are you quite sure?” Thomas tries, diplomatically. 

 

“Absolutely, darling,” Miranda says, and there’s something strangely tense about her voice that makes Thomas stand up and walk around. 

 

“As much as I believe you and respect your opinion on whatever the matter is, I just want to check-” Thomas pauses. “Is that a bookshelf?”

 

“It’s supposed to be,” Miranda huffs, giving up the pretense of assuredness, and motions to the scattered pieces of wood around the room. She’s surrounded by the frame of a bookshelf, sitting between where the shelves are supposed to go.  “I thought it would be a nice gift. I was going to do all of our initials down the side.”

 

“I’m sure it will be,” Thomas says, squatting to peer at the crumpled piece of paper on the ground. “Are those instructions in Swedish?” 

 

“This is the last time I try to do something nice,” Miranda grumbles, wiping her sweaty forehead. “Honestly, Thomas, why didn’t I just buy a bookshelf and paint it?”

 

“You have the courage of a thousand lesser men,” Thomas tells her, picking up the paper. “We both have extensive schooling and knowledge between us, how hard could it be?” 

 

They’re both still dumbfounded how they cannot build a simple bookshelf several hours later, when Madi returns. She comes in, looking at the two Hamiltons surrounded by remnants of plastic bags, small metal bolts and screws, and silently leans down to press a kiss to the top of Miranda’s head. 

 

 

•••

 

 

“Just fucking put it in!”

 

“It’s not going to fit! _I told you_ we needed more time for this _,_ but no, _I can’t possibly ever be the reasonable one-_ ”

 

“You didn’t tell me- I can’t even believe I’m letting you in the first place- wait, let me try-” 

 

There’s an audible strained groan. 

 

“IT’S NOT GOING TO FIT, FLINT-”

 

“Ow!”

 

“You deserved that, if only you had prepared-” 

 

“Fucking wait a minute, let me move up-” 

 

Eleanor pauses from the other side of the back kitchen door, having heard the conversation filtering through. Her arms were beginning to strain from the trays she was carrying, but she stops dead in her tracks once she overhears them. 

 

“Am I going to be scarred for life if I open this door right now?” Eleanor calls out.

 

There’s an abrupt pause. “What?” Silver’s voice filters through. 

 

Eleanor takes a chance, a deep breath in, and she pushes the door open. 

 

The two men are standing at the far counter, attempting to wrestle an attachment onto the stand mixer, by the looks of it. Flint ‘s forehead is beaded with sweat from where he’s holding an attachment, and Silver is still clutching onto the metal bowl as they stop their efforts to look at her. 

 

“We were trying to put the scraper on it, but it doesn’t fit,” Flint admits after a long moment, looking far too disgruntled for a man wearing a bright yellow apron. 

 

“How do you work every day with him?” Silver grumbles to her, even when Flint shoots a glare at him. Eleanor sets down the trays. She doesn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

 

“I wasn’t the one who decided we needed to make a cake for tonight _even though neither of us has ever made one before in our lives-”_

 

“Enough!” Eleanor snaps, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Both Flint and Silver are both too surprised by her exclamation to do more than look at her with wide eyes. “You’ve got the wrong piece there.” 

 

Silver’s head almost comically swivels, looking down at Flint’s hands at the attachment, then back to her. “Pardon me?” Flint just looks angrier, if possible. 

 

“That one is for the larger bowl,” Eleanor says again, walking over to the counter next to Flint. “Here, try this one.” 

 

Flint exchanges the pieces with her, and lo and behold, it easily slides onto the mixer. He stares at the pieces, silent, a vein in his jaw standing out. 

 

“” _Just fucking put it in_ ,’ you said,” Silver echoes, now looking faintly triumphant. “‘ _Don’t be ridiculous, Silver, it has to fit-_ ’” 

 

“ _You’re the one who wanted to make the goddamn cake,”_ Flint hisses, startling them both. Both Eleanor and Silver watch as he turns away then, stomping out of the kitchen to the front. 

 

Eleanor turns to look at Silver, who’s mid eye-roll and turning back to the counter. “Trouble in paradise?” she asks, keeping a careful eye on him as he starts pouring batter into the bowl. 

 

“What? Oh, we’re fine,” Silver says, setting down the bowl. “He’s something else, don’t get me wrong, but I love that crazy bastard. He just needs to angrily foam some milk out front, and I mean that quite literally.” He nods to the cabinet behind her. “Pass me the, ah, vanilla extract?”

 

Eleanor complies, and Silver deftly measures out a serving on a rather large cup. “I thought he said you’d never baked a cake before in your life?”

 

“I figured, how hard could it be?” Silver replies, easily. “It’s just measuring the right amount of the right shit.” He picks up a piece of paper that’s stained with what looks like egg and waves it a bit. “It’s for Madi’s birthday. On our first date, she said that she found cooking sexy, so here we are.”

 

“Regardless, that shit,” Eleanor says, looking into the bowl, “looks terrifying.”

 

The doughy mixture is turning an unsettling pale green color, although the smell is pleasant. 

 

“It’s supposed to be a lemon flavor,” Silver says, dropping in more vanilla. “Or at least that’s what it started out as. Thought I could just use lime since we were low on lemon juice. I thought they look pretty similar, though Flint said the same thing.”

 

Eleanor raises an eyebrow. “They’re different colors.”

 

“I might also be partially colorblind,” Silver says with a shrug. “Vanilla tastes good with everything, right?”

 

“Sure,” Eleanor says. “I’ll just be-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you probably shouldn’t witness this,” Silver mutters, as Eleanor turns to go. 

 

“By the way, what did you mean earlier, when you asked if you were going to be scarred for life?” 

 

Eleanor blinks, resisting the urge to flush. “Just some out of context conversation that I heard.” 

 

“Right,” Silver says. “Make sure Flint isn’t having a heart attack with the hipster crowd out front, would you? Cheers.” 

 

Eleanor snorts and leaves him alone. It’s only when she’s out of the kitchen when she realizes that Silver is most definitely not supposed to be doing anything in the back. _He doesn’t even work here._

 

Out front, Flint’s jaw is honest-to-God twitching as he tries to get an order from a young man who’s staring down at his phone right in from of the cashier. Eleanor tries to be a good person, but really, the sight is too funny to interrupt, even if it’s to bail her boss out.

 

She should be nicer, Eleanor reflects, to the man. She knows he views her something as a daughter, and in case his heart truly does give out, she would bet her left pinky that she’s in his will to receive something like his ship-in-a-bottle collection or something equally heartfelt and ridiculous.

 

The young man finally give Flint his order, and Flint curtly punches the buttons on the register. Eleanor takes pity, and slides in to take over on the front counter, giving a small smile to the next customer.

 

“He figure out the mixer?” Flint asks in between customers, and even though he’s not looking at Eleanor, she can see him fiddling with the cups just a little more than usual as he’s making the drinks. Ah yes, the boyfriend of her father figure. 

 

“If you’re asking if he’s forgiven you for snapping, I would say that you’re not nearly as intimidating to him anymore,” Eleanor answers smartly, and Flint scowls at her.

 

But then he steps back from the counter once they’ve dealt with the line of people in the coffee shop, and mutters something about checking the stocks. Eleanor lets him get away with the flimsy excuse, just for now, and takes over on the expresso machine.

 

“Good thing Eleanor didn’t walk into us earlier,” Silver says without turning around, having recognized that it was Flint entering through the swinging doors. 

 

“We didn’t do anything,” Flint tries to say. He had cut off their earlier actions before it had gotten truly unsanitary, but still, he wasn’t going to be able to walk into the pantry ever again without the memory of Silver shoving him up against the wall, his mouth hot on his neck, his hands curving around Flint’s hips as he tries to move up against him-

 

“Not yet,” Silver retorts, the corner of his mouth curling up as though he knows what Flint’s remembering, turning so he’s close to him. “I’ll get you hot and heavy in between the whisks and the lard one day, you’ll see.”

 

“Who even are you,” Flint says, but lets himself be dragged in by the loops of his apron for a long kiss. He figures that everything’s fine between them now. 

 

Silver breaks it, though, after a few minutes, his breath warm on Flint’s face. “The cakes are almost done,” he says. “Want to see if the lime turned out all right?” 

 

“Lime?” Flint queries, but Silver waves dismissively. 

 

“It’s a birthday cake, how bad can it be?” Silver says. “I’ve got some leftover batter if you’d like to join me.”

 

Flint is about to ask but then watches, incredulous, as Silver scoops out the batter with his fingers. “You’re disgusting.”

 

“And you love it,” Silver accuses, licking his fingers clean. 

 

“God help me,” Flint says, even as he leans in again to kiss batter from the corner of the man’s mouth. 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

Miranda prods the side of the cake with her finger. “You made this?”

 

The cake turned out edible, at least, although that’s in part because of the quick buttercream frosting that Silver had bought from the store on his way back to the house. Truth be told, the white frosting did mostly cover up the strange green color, Flint notices. Although the shape of the cake is still lopsided from where Silver accidentally rammed the box into the doorframe on the way in. 

 

“It’s very lovely,” Madi tells them, kissing both Flint and Silver briefly. She looks radiant, although that’s probably also in part because of the dangling diamond earrings that she had just put on, courtesy of Thomas. The earrings trail down the sides of her neck, catching the lamp’s glow so that they literally sparkle. “Thank you, both.”

 

Thomas kisses Miranda’s cheek as he walks in, standing next to her. “It certainly does smell... unique.” 

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Silver says with a grin, and Flint can only muster a half-hearted glower at the back of his head.

 

“I’ll get the plates,” Thomas says after a moment, touching Flint’s lower back as he passes behind him. 

 

The cake is a strange chalky consistency, though it does taste strongly of citrus. Madi manages to eat an entire slice before declaring herself full from the dinner.

 

Miranda said she would rather split a slice with Thomas, who all-too-willingly accepts, and both Flint and Silver manage to swallow down most of two slices each in a battle of wills. All in all, it’s a success. 

 

“I also got you this,” Flint says then, slightly gruff, and he holds out a wrapped package that could only be a book, to Madi. 

 

Silver elbows him as Madi accepts the gift, unwrapping it carefully. “You didn’t tell me you got something else, too,” he grouses, but Madi silences him with a quick kiss. 

 

“We were just talking about him, I remember,” Madi says with a soft smile, holding up the Neruda collection for the rest to see. “Thank you!”

  
She leans across to kiss him as well, and Flint flushes slightly. “I remember you meant to read some of his poems,” he says, giving her a soft smile that he reserved for her or Thomas. “Happy birthday.”

  
“ _Cuando tus manos salen, amor, hacia las mias, qué me traen volando?”_ Silver recites, and when everyone looks at him, he raises his eyebrows. “What? I’ve been surrounded by you bookworms, some of it had to rub off, and not just in the fun way.” 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

“Did you have a good birthday, darling?” Miranda asks later that night, as the other woman finishes taking off her makeup in the mirror. She watches as Madi wipes her face, admiring the curve of her shoulders and back that are revealed under the pale colored slip she often wore to bed. 

 

Madi smiles at her through the reflection in the mirror, and Miranda lets her eyes trace up her back until she reaches her eyes again. “I did. My colleagues took me out for lunch, we went to that new bistro on Main Street.”

 

“You’ll have to take me some time, I’ve been looking for somewhere new to go,” Miranda says, setting down her book on the side table, sprawling back on the bed. “I think I need to show you off more.”

 

“Your flattery knows no ends, ma’am,” Madi says, giggling as she takes out her earrings. “But now that I think about it, I don’t think you got me a gift.”

 

“I didn’t?” Miranda echoes in mock surprise, as Madi rises from her seat, coming over to the bed. 

 

“Mmm, no,” she says, and swings her leg over so that she’s straddling the older woman, teasingly leaning down to kiss her nose. 

 

 Miranda strokes her thighs with warm hands. “Were you expecting something?” 

 

Her eyes are glimmering mischievously, though, and Madi can feel her stomach fluttering in a way that has nothing to do with any gifts.

 

“I think something could be arranged in lieu of a gift,” she replies with a smile, leaning down to kiss her. But before she could close the gap between them, Miranda flips them over so that she’s pressing her into the bed, enjoying how the woman’s face slackens slightly from both surprise and the slight pressure of Miranda’s thigh between her legs. 

 

“I think I can work with that,” Miranda hums, and as Madi gives a breathless laugh, she fixes her mouth to the curve of where her neck meets her shoulder, down lower to the curve of her breast through the thin chemise she’s wearing. 

 

She also might have a small box in the nightstand that’s been waiting for a week, but that can wait a bit while she shows Madi just exactly she would like to celebrate, well, her. 

 

Later, Madi admires the tiny ring on her finger, a dark garnet surrounded by a gold band. “It’s gorgeous,” she breathes, still a bit shaky from earlier. “Thank you.”

  
“I love you,” Miranda says, winding her arms around her. “Happy birthday, darling.”

 

 

•••

 

 

Silver pushes open the door as he towels off his wet hair. He can hear faint, familiar moans coming down the hall, and he chuckles to himself.  

 

Thomas is lying upright on the bed, his hair illuminated in a soft blond halo around his head, as he reads in a low voice from the book in front of him. Flint is beside him, also underneath the covers, and is mid-yawn when Silver walks in. 

 

“Mind if I join you two?” Silver asks, letting the towel fall to the ground. Thomas gives him a look, though, setting down his book, and Silver quickly picks it up and deposits it in the hamper on the far end of the room. 

 

“You need to teach me how to do that,” Flint grumbles, his eyes half-lidded as he watches Silver climb into bed next to them. 

 

“I’m just encouraging him to maintain a neat, healthy lifestyle,” Thomas says, but then lets a smirk come across his face, making Flint snort. 

 

Silver points at him. “It’s only because you have the face of an angel that I’m letting you get away with that,” he says, but both Flint and Thomas look at him pityingly. “What?” 

 

“Nothing,” Thomas says.

 

Flint moves down into the bed, rolling on his side. He doesn’t say anything, but when Silver moves similarly so that he’s curled up right behind him, Flint lets his head fall back into his chest with a sigh. “We were reading Proust-” 

 

“Ugh, don’t even tell me,” Silver says. “I should have just gone to the other room.”

 

“But then you wouldn’t have me to push you out of bed in the middle of the night,” Flint says, and Silver huffs, moving his arm until it drapes comfortably over the other man’s torso. 

  
“Alas, my girlfriend is being seduced by yours- and your wife- and as much as I love that they are happy, I’m quite tired, and I have no doubt they will at it for a long time. The walls between those rooms are quite thin, so I’m stuck with you two.”

 

“Stuck,” Flint mutters, but his eyes are beginning to drift shut with Silver’s warmth behind him. 

 

“I’ll just continue with this, then,” Thomas says dryly, and he picks up the book once more. 

 

As Thomas reads out loud, Silver looks down and watches as Flint’s face becomes more and more relaxed. Sleep softens his jaw, slows his heartbeat that Silver can feel pressed against his chest, and soon, the man’s breathing evens out, his eyelids only flickering slightly in slumber. 

 

Silver glances up when he hears Thomas cease his reading, and the man catches his eye with a fond smile. “He’s asleep. Must have had a long day at the shop,” he whispers, leaning over to turn off the light on the side table and to set down the book. 

 

“He was on his feet for most of it, lots of customers today for the holiday weekend,” Silver says back, keeping his voice quiet as not to wake up Flint. “We’re going to have to buy him old man shoes.”

 

Thomas lets out a soft laugh, sliding underneath the comforter until he’s lying down and facing Flint. “He’d look dashing no matter what.” 

  
“That he would,” Silver says with a yawn, and Thomas reaches out to put his arm over James as well, his knuckles brushing against Silver’s chest. 

 

“Goodnight, John,” Thomas says, his voice low and fond. 

 

“G’night,” Silver mumbles, already half-asleep with his nose tucked into Flint’s hair. 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

 

“What do you mean, we’re going out this weekend?” Flint says, squinting. They’re sitting in the living room, enjoying the late-afternoon breeze that’s filtering through the open bay windows.

 

 Flint is doing some accounting work on his laptop, Thomas reading some work papers while he’s seated on the ground, and Miranda is across from them on the couch. Madi and Silver are out grocery shopping, though that usually is a thinly veiled excuse for them to make out in the car and to sneak some french fries at a fast food stop, despite the fact Flint has already put a perfectly nutritious dinner on in the oven _and told them so_ _this morning._

 

“It’s the pride parade, Saturday afternoon,” Miranda says, typing on her phone. 

 

“I’m not much of a parade person,” Flint starts, as Thomas perks up his head.

  
  
“We should all go,” he enthuses and doesn’t wilt when Flint turns to stare at him. “James, you would enjoy it!”

 

“Would I, though,” Flint says, and Thomas rises, putting his hands on the other man’s thighs, starting to rub them in small circles. Flint makes a small sound, letting the tension ooze out of his muscles despite himself. “I can’t, anyways. The admiral is in town on Saturday, and I told him we would catch up over lunch.” 

 

“Admiral Hennessey- is in town and he’s not staying with us?” Miranda demands, setting down her phone with a thud. “James, did you not invite him to stay here?” 

 

He looks down to Thomas’s hands on his legs. “I didn’t. It was a last minute stop he was able to make. He’s leaving that night, anyways, and he told me he already has a hotel for Friday.” 

 

“Why on Earth would you not invite him here?” Miranda says, looking at Thomas as if for help. The man just shakes his head, similarly mystified. 

 

A small pit begins to grow in Miranda’s stomach, then. The admiral was like a father to James, and he of all people was well aware of his relationship with the Hamiltons, but she wondered for one horrible moment if she had missed something. She only has Thomas’s father to compare to, after all. “He doesn’t think we’re corrupting you, does he?” 

 

“No, no, nothing like that,” Flint rushes to assure her, and Miranda exhales in relief that he seems adamant about it. “Quite the opposite, he adores the two of you. It’s just- whenever he visits, it’s- well, it’s embarrassing for me.”

 

Miranda stares at him. Thomas, however, stops rubbing the other man’s thighs for a moment. “You don’t like it when we’re with the admiral?” Thomas repeats, and he starts to look sad at the thought, much to Flint’s horror. Inwardly, he curses his tongue. 

 

“No! It’s just that the three of you always trade embarrassing stories about me,” Flint says quickly, and his ears begin to turn red while both the Hamiltons look, surprised, at each other. “And now that Hennessey knows that Silver and Madi are living with us, well, he’s been saying that he’ll bring _the old photos_ for them to see, no matter what I say- and those are probably the unfortunate puberty ones!”

 

“James,” Miranda says, after a long moment. “Do you think you can just prevent Hennessey- who loves you very much- from just never visiting his son and his partners?” 

  
“I was hoping to delay at least until Christmas,” Flint admits, and Thomas lets out a chuckle, squeezing his legs. 

 

“My love, we can try to avoid stories from your boyhood- no matter how charming they are- if it would make you more comfortable,” he tells him. “That’s no reason not to invite the man you consider a father into your home.”

 

“I’m not ashamed of any of this, not with Hennessey,” Flint says then, looking between Miranda and Thomas insistently, looking worried now. “You must know that. It really was last minute.”

 

“Of course, darling. By now, we well know that,” Miranda says comfortingly. “Though I will make no promises if Hennessey brings any of those photo albums-” and Flint makes a small sound of despair- “-tell me you’ll call him. You should have most, if not all, the people you love in the same room from time to time.”

 

“I’m sure he’d love to spend the additional time with you too,” Thomas adds. Flint lets out a long breath. 

 

“To spend with all of us. You’re my family, too,” Flint says, pressing a kiss to the top of Thomas’s head. “Although this still gets me out of going to the parade, right?” 

 

Thomas grins. “We can have lunch with Hennessey and still make it to when the floats are up and running.”

 

“Maybe I’ll have to drive the admiral to the airport,” Flint argues, but then Thomas’s grin slides into something more teasing. 

  
“But why would you want to do that, when there’s love in the air, lots of alcohol, and one of the few times you could get me into tiny, tight shorts?” he offers, and Flint’s eyes go wide. 

 

“What time will we be leaving?” he asks Miranda, and Thomas rubs his thighs like it’s a reward. 

 

The front door opens, and Silver comes in, carrying a stack of papers bags. “I swear to god, don’t even _ask,_ ” he demands, marching into the adjacent kitchen with a huff.

 

 Miranda, Thomas, and Flint all then look towards the door, where Madi is walking in now. 

 

She shrugs. “He thought he could balance two cartons of eggs in one hand. He was wrong. Do we have a hose out front?” 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

 

Hennessey looks older, more gray his hair since the last time Flint has seen him, but when Flint offers him a handshake, he pulls him right into a hug. “It’s been too long, Lieutenant,” he says into the other man’s shoulder. Flint hugs him back, even though they’re probably blocking the entryway of the airport arrivals, to hide the fact that he begins to feels choked up. 

 

“You too, Admiral,” he says, and when Hennessey pulls back to look him up and down, his eyes look misty as well. 

 

  
“You look as though the service industry has treated you well,” he says, looking quietly proud, and James quirks his mouth. “How is the shop going?”

  
  
“It’s not very different than in the Navy. Only in the shop, my subordinates listen to my orders,” he quips, and Hennessey barks out a laugh, picking up his suitcase once more. 

 

“I’m glad you called me. It truly has been too long,” the older man tells him, and James leads him to the car with a smile. 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

 

Miranda kisses Hennessey grandly on both cheeks, and Thomas pulls him in for another hug. “William, thank you for visiting,” he says, and Hennessey looks back at Flint with another smile. 

 

“I’m glad to be here,” he says. “And you must be Madi,” he adds, as the woman steps forward. 

 

“Admiral Hennessey, I have heard much about you from James,” she says warmly, “It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

 

“You are even more beautiful than what James has told me,” Hennessey tells her, kissing her cheek, and Madi blushes lightly with a laugh. 

 

“Where is Silver?” Flint wonders, then, to Thomas and Miranda. “He didn’t go to get more eggs, did he?” 

 

“He was just getting ready for the parade-” Thomas starts, and he’s cut off by the man himself, practically tumbling down the stairs behind them, partially blocked by a large sheet of paper that he’s currently wrestling down the stairs. 

 

“Quick, do I do ‘The Bible said Adam and Eve, so I did both’, or ‘I love my girlfriend’s boyfriend’?” Silver asks, distracted by the roll of paper, until he realizes who’s standing in the foyer, dropping the paper with a comical expression of surprise on his face. “Oh.”

 

“I like the first, it really angers the bible thumpers,” Hennessey says, and Silver makes a choking sound. “You must be John Silver.”

  

 

•••

 

 

To Flint’s combined horror and amusement, Hennessey and Silver get on alarmingly well. Hennessey, thank God, did not bring any photo albums, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling at his phone at Silver (and Madi’s) request. He’s currently showing them photos from Flint’s college days, back before he had met the Hamiltons when Flint had a _terrible_ bowl cut. God. 

 

“Why do you have these on your phone?” Flint asks at one point when Silver cackles at an old Christmas photo with a young Flint scowling at the camera while wearing reindeer ears. 

 

“Shush, James, or I’ll find the toddler ones next,” Hennessey says with all the authority of a Navy admiral, even as he cracks a grin when Thomas chortles. 

 

“It’s just, he had _more_ freckles. I didn’t think it was possible,” Silver says in wonder, as Hennessey scrolls through the photos from next to him. “You’ll send all of these to me, right?” 

 

“Sorry, darling,” Miranda tells James, patting his hand over the table. “It’ll be better at Christmastime.”

 

 

•••

 

 

Thomas is happy to see that the pride parade is just as exciting and fun, full of joy and celebration as usual. He waves to some of his colleagues, marching with their own banner, as he walks down the street, holding Flint’s hand, his heart singing as he sees both young and old people all celebrating on this bright, sunny day. 

 

Silver has managed to get body paint, and everything- save his hair and prosthetic limb- is covered in all the colors of the rainbow. Madi kisses him and laughs when he nuzzles into her enthusiastically, covering her own face with smears of bright color. He brings both posters, swapping them with Thomas ever half hour or so. 

 

Miranda holds Madi’s hand then, their arms swinging as they dance to the music blaring up and down the street. They both collect dozens of strands of beads, chasing each other to put more on the other’s neck, laughing and swinging each other around. She gets paint on Miranda as well, and both collect enough beads to start tossing them at other people. 

 

Flint, for his part, is nonchalant for two blocks, until Silver brings them free jello shots that the bar down the road is providing them for all the parade goers. They both get tipsy-drunk and sloppily make out as Thomas tries to prevent them from walking into any telephone poles, Flint laughing loose and loud in the way that he does when he’s on his way to being drunk, Silver looking at him with shining eyes. 

 

“I’m never drinking again,” Flint complains the next day, too proud to put on sunglasses even as he’s squinting in the light coming in from the window. Silver, for his part, looks similarly afflicted, using Flint’s arm to block the sun.

 

“We should do it next year too,” Miranda says, leaning on Thomas, her feet in Madi’s lap. Thomas kisses her in agreement. 

 

 

•••

 

 

“What if we wanted to expand our family?” Madi asks, her voice casual, over breakfast one morning. 

 

There’s a beat of silence as four heads swivel to her, then Flint starts violently choking on his mouthful of cereal. 

 

“Expand?” Miranda echoes, and for such an intelligent woman, she does look stupefied at the very idea, to Madi’s growing amusement. She does pat Flint on the back, though, as he takes another wheezing breath, looking like he wants to assure Madi that _really, it was just that he was taken off guard_. 

 

Thomas, the first to recover, smiles at Madi from the other side of Miranda. “Miranda and I had thought about it when we first got married,” he says. “Though I’m not quite sure where we last left off with that particular conversation.” 

 

Silver, from where he was seated beside her, has gone entirely frozen. 

 

Miranda looks at Thomas. “I believe by now, my time to have biological children might have passed, dear.”

 

It’s Madi’s turn to cough on a bite of toast, and she snatches Flint’s orange juice to take a sip. “I was talking about a _dog_ ,” she says, as Flint wheezes once more. Silver unfreezes, then, at her side, and grins at her just a little too brightly. 

 

“We could get one of those little yappy dogs,” he enthuses, his eyes still a touch too wide. “Not that I wouldn’t want to have children, darling, but- ah-  _Pomeranians.”_

 

“I’ve thought of children,” Flint says then, nearly shyly, and then everyone is turning to him, so he looks annoyed. “Not enough to bring it up, just- planning. In case that’s something that we would like to happen.” His gaze goes intense. “I could leave running the store to Eleanor and Billy, for maybe six months. When the child is older, I could adjust my schedule, but I’ve looked and the maternal leave is actually decent for your job-” he cuts off, noticing that everyone is looking at him again. “What?”

 

“Just admiring your foresight,” Madi says dryly. “I really only meant a dog for now, though.”

 

“You have a binder full of adoption papers somewhere, don’t you,” Silver says, finally looking like he's recovered from whatever journey occurred in his mind. Although he says it in a teasing tone, Flint’s ears go predictably red.

 

“It’s not a binder,” he retorts, but Miranda is looking at Madi with soft eyes, and that’s what she focuses on for now. 

 

“We can go to a shelter this weekend,” she says, and Madi grins. 

 

“I’ve always wanted one of those big fluffy dogs,” she admits. 

 

“All right,” Silver says, having given up his conversation with Flint temporarily, “And I think the more important question would be, can anyone else just _see_ Thomas carrying around a baby in one of those slings while he’s in the garden and whatnot?” 

 

Thomas mock-gasps. “Like you wouldn’t carry our child everywhere you went!” But Flint is studying the man with a different sort of intensity in his eyes, one that is far more familiar. Apparently, he quite likes the paternal look on him, Madi thinks to herself, as Thomas catches his eye and flushes a bit at the hungry look in Flint’s eyes. 

 

Madi turns to take another piece of toast, grinning even broader to herself. The promise of a future is exhilarating, after all, even if she’s known it for quite some time. 

 

 

•••

 

 

 

The pet they get ends up a massively fluffy, energetic dog, much to Silver’s consternation at first once it’s clear that this dog cannot be held under one arm. But then the dog gets one big lick onto his face, and he’s laughing and on board with the idea as much as the rest of them, running around the backyard as the dog chases him, his dark hair flying out not unlike the dog’s long pale fur fluttering in the wind. 

 

Thomas and Miranda decide to name him Argos, both coming up with the idea without actually talking about it to each other. It’s a fine name, even though they are delightfully unaware of how pretentious they are, Madi thinks fondly, as they later go to the pet store to make sure they have all the necessary equipment for the dog. 

 

Flint tries to get the dog to come with him on his morning runs, once. Thomas and Madi were at the table (Silver and Miranda still fast asleep upstairs, as they liked to sleep in) drinking coffee and enjoying the quiet morning, when they hear heavy steps in the front hallway. 

 

“He made it,” Flint says in a tired voice, unlike his usual energetic self once he’s gotten back from a jog, and it’s clear why once he steps more into the house, “about halfway before deciding that he didn’t want to run anymore.”

 

He deposits Argos on the ground, who’s wagging his tail, licking Flint’s face. The dog loves them all already but has a particular fondness for Flint. 

 

“You carried him back?” Thomas asks, eyebrows raised.

  
“You’re not a running dog, are you boy,” Madi coos to the dog, who sets his head in her lap, big eyes adoring at her. 

  
“He just stopped right there on the sidewalk,” Flint says with a resigned look on his face. “Nothing would get him up.”

 

“Sorry, love,” Thomas says, rising to give him a long kiss, Flint melting in the particular way he does around Thomas. “Join me for a shower?” 

 

“You say that like he’s not going to say yes,” Madi quips, still scratching Argos’s ears, and James lets out a pointed exhale in her direction as Thomas grabs his hand and leads him upstairs. 

 

A little while later, Miranda wanders down, creases on her face from where it was pressed up against a pillow recently. “They woke me up by getting too enthusiastic in the shower,” she says grumpily, pouring herself coffee as Madi gets up to wind her arms around the other woman’s waist. “I think Thomas slipped and fell.” 

 

“Didn’t check on them?” Madi asks, pressing a kiss to the base of her neck. 

 

“They woke me up, he deserves it,” she retorts, even as she tilts her head to give the other woman better access, despite another yawn. “Did James manage to run with Argos?” 

 

“With limited success,” Madi says, letting Miranda go to fetch the milk and sugar for her.

 

 

 

•••

 

 

Flint is wiping down the counter when the door rings. He glances up, about to greet whoever came in, when he sees who it is and his eyes narrow. “What are you two doing here?”

 

“Good day to you too,” Silver says with a smirk, holding the door open for Miranda behind him. “Miranda’s afternoon was free, as was mine, so we both decided to go for lunch.”

 

“We’re just here for coffee,” Miranda adds. “Absolutely not to come ogle at you. Even though I must say, that shirt is lovely with your eyes.”

 

“Oh, I absolutely agree,” Silver adds, letting his eyes go up and down. “Absolutely.”

  
  
“Am I going to have to throw the two of you out?” Flint asks, flatly, as Billy comes up from behind him to the counter. 

 

“Hello,” Billy says. “Can I get you two-”

 

“Don’t worry about us, Billy, we’re just here to bother Flint,” Silver says smoothly. Billy stifles a laugh, especially when Flint shoots a dirty look at him. 

 

“You wanted coffee?” Flint grumbles, as Silver sits on the stool by the counter, Miranda moving to lean right next to him. 

 

“James, did you happen to spill sugar on your chair?” Miranda asks, and Flint actually turns around to check. 

 

“No, why do you-” 

 

“Because you’ve got a _sweet ass,_ ” Silver continues for her, and both he and Miranda share a wide grin. 

 

“I cannot believe,” Flint says, “you just said that. In public. Out loud.”

 

“Oh, _darling,_ ” Miranda purrs, and Flint’s ears turn red. “We just missed you, that’s all.” Her eyes flicker down. “All of you. Care to take a long lunch break?”

 

“Can I go to the back?” Billy asks weakly, and Flint shoos him away. 

  
  
“I’m making your coffee, and then you’re leaving before all the customers think that harassment is the new normal around here,” Flint threatens. 

 

“We’ll stop once you stop liking it,” Miranda replies, and Silver laughs. 

 

Flint does like it, not that he would ever admit it, and he blushes when Miranda and Silver start whispering more and more crude things before they finally leave. As soon as they’re gone though, Flint lets himself smile, thinking that he might leave early today after all.

 

 

 

•••

 

 

“I’m going to need your help,” Thomas says firmly, and Madi lifts her head from the sofa pillow.

 

“What is it?” she asks, curious, as he looks back and forth, making sure they’re alone. 

  
  
“So I might have bought about a thousand books online just now,” Thomas says and hurries when Madi’s jaw drops. “They were cheap! I got them all for a mere _fraction_ of what they were worth, but now I need to go pick them up and hide them before anyone figures out what I’ve done.”

  
“Secrecy is a terrible thing to have in a relationship,” Madi says sternly, and Thomas looks abashed. “I’ll get the car.” 

 

His smile is nearly blinding, and they scurry out of the house.

 

“So why did you buy a thousand books?” Madi has to ask, once Thomas is driving them down the road. 

 

“I was bidding for an old edition of _Don Quixote_ for Miranda’s birthday,” he reveals, “And the one I wanted came in a set. Only, the owner is having a large sale, and wants all of the books gone, so I made the decision to take a load off of his hands.”

 

“You mean a thousand books metaphorically, correct?” Madi asks. 

 

“Well,” Thomas says diplomatically, “It’s probably only in the seven hundreds.” 

 

They manage to fit the books in Madi’s car, and when they pull up, Miranda is watering the plants in the front. She just slowly shakes her head when Madi and Thomas exit, already seeing the piles of books through the windshield.

 

“Hey sweeth- oh my god,” Silver says, coming to a full stop. “What the fuck?”

 

“There’s a good chance,” Madi says, “That neither Thomas nor I have good sense when it comes to books."

 

“I refuse to apologize,” Thomas says. 

 

“Flint’s going to cry,” Silver gleefully tells them. 

 

“Of happiness or shock?” Miranda asks dryly.

 

Flint just shakes his head when he sees the sheer magnitude of books. “We’re going to need to buy so many more bookshelves,” he tells Thomas, who looks satisfied.

 

But Madi sees the way Flint reverently touches a vintage copy of _Meditations_ when he thinks no one is looking, and she thinks to herself that perhaps she and Thomas are not the only ones with a book weakness. 

 

They end up donating most of the books to the the local library. It turns out there is a limit to the number of bookshelves one can stuff into a room, and Miranda had decided that it wasn't worth giving up the downstairs bathroom, no matter how nice the books were,  _Thomas_. 

 

 

•••

 

 

Madi lays back in the grass. She can feel the sun beating down on her skin from where it’s peeking through the clouds, the grass soft and comfortable under her head.

 

“You’re finished gardening, then?” Miranda’s voice filters in from somewhere at her feet. “We’ve still got the tomatoes.”

 

  
“The tomatoes can wait,” Madi reasons. “But the weather is gorgeous now, and I felt it necessary to take a break.”

 

Miranda’s laugh is light. “Another break?” 

 

There’s a rustle beside her, and then the other woman is joining her on the ground. “Lovely view, though,” Miranda says, squinting up at the sky. 

 

Madi turns to face her, laces her fingers through Miranda's warm fingers. From here, she can see the tiny smile lines in the corner of Miranda’s eyes, the soft dark flutter of eyelashes that curl of her cheeks. Miranda turns her head, looks right back at her, and her mouth parts. 

 

“It really is,” Madi says. 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

 

“We’re back!” Silver calls, setting the keys down on the counter. 

 

Thomas emerges from the back room, folding a newspaper in half under his arm. “Miranda and Madi are in the garden. How did it go?” 

 

Silver shrugs, rubbing the outside of his leg. “Doctor said that the prosthetic was holding up well, guess I’ll have to stop using it as a chew toy for Argos.”

 

“I’ll just have to spoil him more, then,” Thomas says with a smile, reaching behind him for the leash they kept on a hook on the wall. “I was just about to go walk him, care to join us?” 

 

“I think I’ll go bother the lovely ladies. You should take James, though, he’s been antsy all day,” Silver says with a quirk to his mouth, just as the other man walks in. “Isn’t that right, darling?” 

 

Flint rolls his eyes as is his response most of the time, before kissing Thomas. “Are you going for a walk with Argos? We should try the harness.”

 

“He’s getting better about pulling at the leash,” Thomas tries, letting his eyes widen. “He only pulled me away from the road once yesterday.

 

“He’ll learn to like the harness,” Flint says, adamant and immune to the look Thomas is sending him. “Silver, could you pass me the harness leash?”

 

“But James, then I can’t run my hands through his fur.”

 

“You can take off the harness as soon as we get back- no, Silver, the harness leash, the green one.” 

 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to clarify,” Silver says, squinting at the leash that he was holding. “Isn’t this the green one?” 

 

“That’s the spare one- it’s yellow!”

  
  
“Can’t really tell the difference,” Silver says casually, turning back to the leashes. “This one?”

 

“Can you not differentiate between green and yellow?” Thomas asks. Flint is silent. 

 

“Nah, although I’m good with the others,” Silver answers, picking up the correct leash. “This it?” 

 

“ _You drove us home_ , _”_ Flint says, looking somewhat stunned. “Is that why you sped through the yellow light?”

 

“That would do it,” Silver says. “I always forget which one is the slow-down, y’know.”

 

  
“Christ,” Flint says, faintly. “You’re never driving again.”

 

“But then you could never give me road head again, and wouldn't that just be a _tragedy_ for both of us,” Silver replies with a grin, and Flint flushes a dark red color. 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

 

Miranda wakes up with a cough one morning. Her voice is rough over breakfast, and she blames it on the fact she had been showing around schoolchildren all day at the museum a few days ago. “It’s probably just the flu, I’ll try not to cough on all of your things,” she says. “Damn, I should have gotten the vaccine this year.” 

 

Flint is about to make the point that _that’s why he put down the clinic hours on the shared calender_ , but Miranda gives another huffing breath and he decides to keep quiet. 

 

“I can make Silver go get some cold medicine from the store before work?” Madi offers. “I think he took the last of it the other month.” 

 

“Hey, I didn’t want to get sick,” Silver starts, but Miranda gives another cough, one that rattles in her lungs, and he winces. “All right, all right, I’ll go.”

 

She feels better within a few days, especially with Madi and Silver hovering over her, but her ability to keep germs close to her fails, unfortunately.

 

Sometime during the night two days later, Thomas wakes up to the sensation of shaking beside him. 

 

He squints in the dark- damn, he’s going to have to get glasses, isn’t he- trying to see what’s causing the movement. Argos is fast asleep on the ground to the other side of him, he can tell, so that rules him out.

 

Thomas reaches out to put a hand on James’s shoulder to wake him, and immediately knows the source of the motion. James is _shivering_ , his entire body jolting with the motion, although his skin is bizarrely hot to the touch.

 

“James?” Thomas says quietly, trying to wake him up. 

 

James doesn’t answer except for a quiet groan, and Thomas reaches over him to turn on the light. 

 

In the dim light, he can see how James is flushed an unnatural color, looking both pale and red at once. His eyes are half-open, but the gaze is cloudy. “Thomas?”

 

“Oh, darling,” Thomas says, as James lets out a low cough that shakes him even more. “You’ve got the flu, don’t you?” 

 

“C-cold,” James mutters, trying to pull the blanket around him, but it keeps on escaping his sweat-slick fingers. “Thomas?”

 

Thomas bends down to kiss his cheek, before moving to get out of bed. The piteous sound that James emits makes him pause, though. 

 

“Where-” James tries to get out, as he coughs hard again, “are you going?” He looks genuinely _upset_ that Thomas is leaving him, and Thomas simultaneously wants to laugh and cry at that expression.

 

“I’m just getting you some medicine and water, I’ll be right back,” he promises, even as James makes a snuffling sound into his pillow. 

 

He pads out of the bedroom quietly, trying not to wake the others, and gathers the supplies. He also snags a box of tissues, and a spare blanket, before carrying it all back to the bedroom. 

 

“Thomas,” James breathes out, once he reenters the room. “You came back,” and his voice is so sincere that Thomas can’t help but to run a hand along his jaw. 

 

“Of course, darling,” he says fondly, setting down the glass of water. “Can you sit up to take some medicine?” 

 

James does, with some help from Thomas, and he gulps down the entire glass. Thomas wraps the blanket around him, and curls up behind him, holding James so that his head is on his chest. James’s shivering lessens somewhat with both the added layer and Thomas’s warmth, and soon he falls partially asleep once more, coughs still occasionally racking his frame. Thomas too eventually drifts off, his nose tucked on the top of James’s head. 

 

When he wakes up, James is still asleep in front of him, his breathing ragged as he still shivers slightly. To his surprise, though, Silver is sitting on the edge of the bed, hand on James’s arm, and looking exhausted.

 

Thomas moves slightly, and Silver lifts his head from where he was watching James. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he smiles sheepishly. “His coughing woke me up a few hours ago.”

 

“Did you stay up?” Thomas asks quietly. “You could have woken me-” 

 

“No, no, don’t worry,” Silver says. “You were out cold, plus, how could I pass on the opportunity to talk about our children?” 

 

“Our-” Thomas starts, but James coughs again, and they both glance down at him. 

 

“Yes, our children,” Silver says, and even though he looks tired, there’s a soft smile on his face. “James tried to get me to check on them last night. Said that he didn’t think he could carry any of them right now, and since you were asleep, I should make sure they weren’t sick too.”

 

Thomas lets out an amused breath, tightening his hold on James. “I love you, you ridiculous man,” he whispers to James below. 

 

“I think I got him to reveal his thoughts on names, too,” Silver says agreeably. “Atticus and Josephine are going to have a fun time in elementary school.”

 

“You should sleep,” Thomas says, gently untangling himself from James even as he makes a faint noise in response. “I’ll go get more water.”

 

Silver looks like he’s about to say that he’s fine, but then a yawn wracks his frame, so he lies down in front of James. “Thank you,” he says, and Thomas runs a hand over his shoulder before getting up again.

 

He meets Miranda in the hallway. “I got him sick, didn’t I,” she says, looking guilty. “That was James coughing last night?” 

 

“He’s fine,” Thomas reassures her. “He just needs some rest and water.”

 

“John’s with him?” Miranda asks, her brow furrowed in sympathy, following him to the kitchen. “I’ll put on some tea.” 

 

“Apparently he was quite insistent last night that John should check up on the children,” Thomas says, and Miranda smiles. 

 

“Is that right?” 

 

 Silver spends the entire day worried at James’s side, looking distraught along with Thomas each time James makes a low groaning sound as he slumbers. 

 

Madi eventually pushes him aside to rub soothing ointment on James’s chest sometime around midday, which is also when the fever seems to break. She curls up besides Silver as well, comforting him while he calms down James. Miranda reads to them out loud from one of the books that has been on Thomas’s book shelf for ages, and they spend the day in bed.

 

In the end, James is able to sit up and eat solid food by the evening that day. He doesn’t remember the conversation about children, but looks surprised when he realizes that they all spent the day basically taking care of him.

 

“You didn’t have to,” he starts, but Madi shushes him.

 

“Don’t you even start, Flint,” she says, and he smiles, taking her hand in his. 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

 

For Thomas’s birthday, they all surprise him with a trip to the museum. Madi arranges it so that they can go after hours, when the halls are empty, with Miranda’s help.

 

The museum is mostly dark when they arrive, the only light being the automatic ones that shine above most of the paintings. It gives the space an entirely new feel to it, and as his present, Flint allows Thomas to tear up the museum map. “We’ll just go where our feet take us,” Thomas tells him, and Flint smiles into the kiss he lets himself be pulled into.

 

Miranda and Silver both suggest rather inappropriate activities to do while the museum is closed, but true to his academic nature (“You’re a nerd,” Silver says fondly), Thomas is thrilled to spend all the time he wants looking at the paintings and sculptures. 

 

Miranda waits until they’ve all walked ahead, and then she pulls teasingly at Madi’s hand. “Perhaps if you’re lucky, you could press me up against the wall near that Botticelli piece and see what happens,” she flirts, as Madi nearly chokes on her own tongue.

 

Silver takes photos of them all posing next to the sculptures. “I can’t believe I’m living with all these models,” he says, taking a photo of Flint next to an impressively detailed sculpture. “Take your shirt off and flex next to that one!”

 

Madi takes a photo of all of them, squeezing herself into the corner, in front of some abstract painting. It’s not the painting, after all, she was trying to capture, as she later sets the photo as her lock screen on her phone, smiling at the faces of the people she loves. 

 

•••

 


End file.
